UC-NRLF 


^B    5    l'^^ 


f  J 


4^^?^^ 


LIBRARY 

OF  THK 

University  of  Californl 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  18^4, 
<iAccessions  No.^$^  1^%,.      Class  No, 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witin  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/formationofmanlyOOpeckricli 


FOEMATION 


A  MANLY    CHARACTER: 

A  SERIES  OF  LECTURES  TO  YOUNG  MEN. 


By   GEORGE    PECK,   D.D. 
^^^^ 

[u'lriVBRSITT] 

PUBLISHED  BY   CAKLTON  &  PHILLIPS, 


200    MULBERRY-STUEET 

1854. 


T    n 


Mlf%f. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 
BY  CAKLTON   &  PHILLIPS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern 
District  of  New-York. 


INTRODUCTION, 


The  aim  of  the  following  lectures  is  expressed 
in  a  brief  charge  delivered  by  David  to  his 
son  Solomon,  "  Show  thyseff  a  man."  There 
is  true  dignity  in  manhood.  To  be  "a  man" 
in  the  high  sense  intended  in  this  brief  but 
significant  sentence,  is  to  attain  to  the  highest 
excellence.  True  manhood  is  little  less  than 
angelic — it  is  the  grandest  exhibition  of  the 
divine  power  and  wisdom — the  culminating 
point  of  this  world's  greatness.  Man  was  not 
only  made  "in  the  likeness  and  image  of 
God,"  but,  as  says  Dr.  South,  "  in  him  were 
united  all  the  scattered  perfections  of  the 
creature,  all  the  graces  and  ornaments;  all 
the  airs  and  features  of  being  were  abridged 
into  this  small,  yet  full,  system  of  nature  and 
divinity." 

How  fearfully,  then,  has  man  fallen  from 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

the  glorious  eminence  upon  which  he  was 
originally  placed!  He  is  now  debased  and 
cursed  bj  sin.  He  has  become  a  foe  to  God 
and  his  own  happiness,  and  is  sunk  into  the 
very  depths  of  moral  pollution.  The  crown 
has  fallen  from  his  head,  and  he  is  despoiled 
of  all  his  original  dignity  and  beauty.  The 
image  of  God  is  marred  and  effaced,  and  in  its 
stead  is  to  be  found  the  image  of  Satan. 

The  remedial  system  of  the  gospel  provides 
a  probation  for  all,  and  institutes  a  disciplin- 
ary process,  the  object  of  which  is  the  rein- 
vestment of  human  nature  with  its  original 
dignity.  The  educating  process,  having  this 
great  end  in  view,  should  be  wisely  adjusted 
to  the  elevation  and  restoration  of  man.  The 
/  child  has  nothing  but  the  basis  of  the  super- 
structure. The  young  man  is  in  the  transi- 
tion state — just  passing  from  childhood  to 
manhood — the  period  when  the  means  and 
agencies  designed  for  the  formation  of  charac- 
ter can  act  with  the  greatest  advantage,  and 
consequently  should  be  plied  with  the  greatest 
force,  and  improved  with  the  utmost  dili- 
gence. 


INTRODUCTION.  S 

True  manhood  is  the  object  to  which  the 
young  man  should  direct  his  attention  and 
his  aim.  It  is  a  structure  to  be  erected,  and 
is  composed  of  elements  wisely  arranged  and 
combined.  It  is  a  complex  but  harmonious 
whole,  every  part  of  which  has  its  place  and  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  perfect  symmetry. 

The  theme  is  expansive,  and  needs  to  be 
thoroughly  surveyed.  It  is  worthy  the  study 
of  parents  and  teachers  of  all  classes,  from 
the  instructor  of  an  infant  class  to  the  pro- 
fessor in  the  university;  but  it  especially 
commends  itself  to  the  consideration  of  ycmng 
men.  They  should  study  with  great  diligence 
both  the  imperfection  and  the  improvability 
of  their  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  con- 
stitution ;  the  means  and  conditions  by  which 
each  of  these  departments  of  their  manhood  is 
to  be  improved ;  the  difficulties  and  obstacles 
to  be  overcome,  and  the  motives  which  urge 
prompt  and  persevering  action. 

"  Upon  the  time  that  is  now  passing  over, 
it  depends  chiefly  what  you  are  to  be  and  to 
do,  through  all  time  and  eternity.  The  next 
two  years  will  very  likely  determine  the  great 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

question  concerning  the  character  of  your 
whole  existence.  The  observable  tendencies 
of  boyhood  and  youth,  the  significant  prog- 
nostication of  the  pupil  and  the  apprentice, 
the  declaratory  signs  of  earlier  years,  will  now 
receive  their  full  and,  perhaps,  final  confirma- 
tion. Your  character,  like  your  body,  through 
the  previous  stages  of  existence,  now,  like  that, 
aims  at  its  full  shape  and  maturity,  which  it 
will  hereafter  exhibit.  Can  you  be  thought- 
less and  carelessly  indifi'erent  at  such  a 
crisis?" — Rev,  X  A,  James's  Lectures  to  Young 
Men, 

In  these  lectures  my  purpose  is  to  render 
the  young  men  of  the  country  som^  aid  in  the 
great  work  of  reforming  and  improving  them- 
selves— of  qualifying  themselves  for  the  great 
battle  of  life — of  attaining  to  the  dignity  of 
a  manly  character.  Upon  this,  young  gentle- 
men, depends  your  influence,  your  usefulness, 
and  your  happiness  during  the  present  and 
the  future  life. 

Under  strong  convictions  of  the  importance 
of  the  work  upon  which  I  now  enter,  I  pray 
for  wisdom  and  grace  from  above,  that  I  may 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

not  fail  to  do  it  ample  justice.  I  feel  my  re- 
sponsibilities to  God,  to  the  Church,  and  to  the 
world.  The  young  men  whose  ear  I  may  gain 
are  to  be  largely  concerned  in  the  instrumen- 
tality, which  God  in  his  providence  is  now  pre- 
paring, for  the  enlightenment  and  salvation 
of  the  world.  If  they  shall  be  obstructed  in 
their  preparations  for  the  field  which  is  soon 
to  be  assigned  them,  by  errors  and  mistakes 
upon  my  part,  I  shall  incur  a  fearful  amount 
of  responsibility ;  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  I 
shall  be  able  to  render  them  effectual  aid  in 
this  work,  I  shall  by  that  means,  in  the  best 
way,  serve  the  Church  and  the  world,  the  pres- 
ent generation  and  generations  to  come. 

Young  gentlemen — what  I  especially  wish, 
and  what  I  am  encouraged  to  hope  will  not  be 
denied  me,  is  your  earnest  attention.  I  beg 
you  to  believe  that,  although  there  is  con- 
siderable difference  between  your  age  and 
mine — you  are  in  the  vigour  of  youth  and  I  am 
past  the  meridian  of  life — yet  my  sympathies 
with  you,  in  all  your  perplexities  and  dangers, 
are  deep  and  controlling.  But  the  other  day 
[  was  young  like  you,  was  flushed  with  high 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

anticipations  as  you  now  are,  was  surrounded 
with  temptations  and  dangers  such  as  now 
encompass  you.  My  impressions,  my  vexa- 
tions, my  temptations,  my  aspirations  then, 
are  now  all  present  to  my  mind  with  the  same 
vividness  and  strength  as  are  the  impressions 
of  yesterday.  These  images  of  the  past  are 
the  good  angels  which  prompt  and  encourage 
me  in  the  effort  which  I  now  commence,  to 
render  you  some  timely  assistance  in  your 
efforts  to  prepare  for  usefulness. 

May  I  not  hope  at  the  commencement  to 
secure  that  measure  of  your  confidence  which 
will  be  necessary  to  success  ?  At  least,  believe 
that  my  object  is  to  do  you  good  ;  farther  than 
this  I  will  ask  nothing  but  simple  concessions 
to  the  dictates  of  true  religion  and  sound  phi- 
losophy. 


CONTENTS. 


I. PHYSICAL    MANHOOD. 

Necessary  to  bodily  vigour,  are,  1.  Exercise— Field  labour — Riding  on 
horseback — Geological  and  botanical  excursions. — 2.  Suitable  at- 
tention to  diet— Food  of  the  right  kind,  in  suitable  quantities, 
and  at  the  proper  season — Illustration  from  Addison. — 3.  Necessary 
sleep — When  it  should  be  taken.— 4.  Cleanliness  —  Bathing. — 
5.  Exposure  to  extremes  of  weather. — 6.  Temperance  —  Use  of 
intoxicating  drinks. — Illustrations  of  the  imi>ortance  of  phy- 
sical maturity —  Quotation  from  J.  T.  Crane — Late  King  of  the 
French Page  11 

II. INTELLECTUAL    MANHOOD. 

A  distinction  between  wisdom  and  knowledge  — I.  Subjects  of 
knowledge — 1.  Self-knowledge— 2.  The  knowledge  of  men— 3.  The 
knowledge  of  the  physical  world— 4.  A  competent  knowledge  of 
science  and  letters. — II.  Practical  wisdom — Reasoning,  in  what 
the  power  of,  consists — Rules  of— All  may  attain  it— Ignorance  is 
disgraceful— Illustrations  from  James,  Locke,  and  Cicero 27 


III. INTELLECTUAL    MANHOOD,    CONTINUED. 

THE   IMAGINATION. 

Definition  of  imagination  from  Abercrombie  and  Ranch— The  He- 
brew word— Importance  of  the  power— May  be  improved— It  is 
necessary  to  the  vigour  of  the  reasoning  powers— Contributes  to 
sympathy— And  is  a  source  of  happiness — Diseased  imagination 
— Case  from  Dr.  Gall— Rousseau— Case  from  Dean  Swift— From 
M.  Chabanon— Several  cases  never  before  published— Hypochon- 
dria —  An  amusing  instance  —  Unduly  excited  imagination  — 
One  idea— Castle  building — Reckless  speculations — A  corrupt  im- 
agination— A  striking  illustration — Causes  of  this  corruption — 
Worksof  fiction— Opinion  of  Dean  Swift — John  Foster~Dr.  John- 
son— Dr.  Abercrombie 53 


IV. EMOTIONAL    MANHOOD. 

Desires — Animal  appetites — A  desire  of  wealth — Desire  of  influence 
— Fear — False  notions  of  courage  and  cowardice — The  duelist — 
Courage  and  fortitude— Love— Definition— The  counterfeit  of— 
Malevolent  affections— Anger— Hatred— Revenge  —Envy— Jeal- 
ousy—Pride— A  distinction— Influence  upon  the  character 84 


10  CONTENTS. 


V. VOLITIVE    MANHOOD. 

Government  of  the  will— Energy — Decision— Importance  of  a  re- 
solve— Sad  effects  of  delay— Hindrances  to  decision— Instances  of 
decision — Firmness — Difficulties  and  importance  of— A  short  les- 
son— Illustrations— Perseverance— Difference  between  these  traits 
of  character  and  obstinacy Page  111 


VI. SOCIAL    MANHOOD. 

"What  is  implied  in  good  manners — 1.  Special  attention  to  general 
bearing — 2.  Chaste  conversation — 3.  Appropriate  bearing  towards 
ladies — i.  Manners  at  home— o.  Pay  special  respect  to  age..  139 


VII. CIVIL    MANHOOD. 

Rights  of  citizens — Protection — Responsibilities  of  a  citizen— Duties 
of  a  citizen — 1.  To  pay  taxes  for  the  support  of  government — 
2.  Assistinsupporting  the  purity  of  government — 3.  To  contribute 
to  the  common  stock  of  useful  knowledge— 4.  To  contribute  to 
the  public  morality 1G4 


VIII. MORAL    AND    RELIGIOUS    MANHOOD. 

The  internal  qualities  of  a  moral  or  a  religious  man  —  Experi- 
mental religion — An  enlightened,  purified,  and  awakened  con- 
science—Faith— A  thorough  renovation  of  heart 190 


IX.— MORAL  AND   RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD,   CONTINUED. 

Practical  religion— Outward  profession— Attending  the  means  of 
grace — Benevolent  institutions — Christian  conduct  in  your  inter- 
course with  the  world 218 


X. TRUE    MANHOOD    THE    WANT    OF    THE    TIMES. 

This  is  an  age  of  improvement — Foreigners — Radicalism — Activity 
—An  extract  from  Bonar  on  Progress— Temptations  to  youth- 
Gold  fever 240 


XI. THE    MAN    FOR    THE    TIMES. 

Extensive  information— Untiring  industry— Power  of  adaptation- 
Liberal  Christian  education— Thorough  and  extensive  acquaint- 
ance with  books— Large  and  catholic  views  and  feelings 277 


[UHIVBRSZTTj 

MANLY  CHARACTER. 


I.  PHYSICAL  MANHOOD. 

"  THAT  OUR  SONS  MAY  BE  AS  PLANTS  GROWN  UP  IN  THEIR 
YOUTH." — PSA.  CXLIV,  12. 

The  idea  of  an  early  and  a  healthy  develop- 
ment of  the  physical  powers  is  not  blindly 
implied  in  this  text,  but  seems  to  stand  out 
prominently  upon  its  very  face.  That  you 
early  acquire  the  physical  strength  of  a  man 
— hardness  of  muscle  and  strength  of  nerve — 
is  every  way  important.  I  need  not  attempt 
to  prove  to  you,  young  gentlemen,  that  the 
weakness  of  childhood  or  feminine  delicacy  is 
not  becoming  in  one  who  has  reached  the 
stature  and  bulk  of  a  man.  I  shall  assume 
that  you  concede  all  this,  and  fully  appreciate 
the  importance  of  the  full  development  of  the 
physical  powers  as  early  in  life  as  possible, 
and,  of  course,  that  you  are  prepared  properly 
to  estimate  the  means  which  are  directed  to 
this   end.     I    shall   consequently  proceed  at 


12  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

once  to  the  consideration  of  the  conditions  of 
the  early  attainment  of  the  physical  powers 
of  manhood. 

The  suhject  will  not  he  treated  in  so  learned 
or  scientific  a  manner  as  to  be  difficult  of  ap- 
prehension. A  few  practical  rules  will  he  laid 
down,  which  will  commend  themselves  to  your 
common-sense,  and  which  will  need  very  little 
illustration. 

1.  The  first  thing  which  I  urge  as  necessary 
to  the  acquisition  of  manly  strength  and 
vigour  of  body,  is  exercise.  Every  muscle  of 
the  human  body  requires  a  certain  amount  of 
use  in  order  to  its  healthy  condition.  The 
physical  powers  are  all  increased  by  exercise, 
and  diminished  by  disuse ;  and  to  give  strength 
and  vigour  to  the  body,  a  species  of  exercise 
is  necessary  which  will  task  the  muscular 
strength  of  every  part  of  the  system.  Walk- 
ing only  exercises  a  portion  of  the  muscles, 
Avhile  others  remain  comparatively  inactive. 
In  the  place  of  field  labour,  which  is  by 
far  the  most  conducive  to  bodily  strength, 
gymnastic  exercises  may  be  profitably  re- 
/  sorted  to. 
^  In  the  mean  time,  if  a  young  man  is  en- 
gaged in  a  business  which  will  afford  him  an 
opportunity  to  lift  heavy  bodies,  to  pull  a 
rope,  to  roll  barrels,  tumble  boxes,  or  exercise 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  13 

himself  in  any  other  way  whereby  the  muscles 
of  his  limbs  and  chest  may  be  moderately 
strained,  he  will  find  that  such  exercise,  em- 
ployed habitually,  will  give  him  strength  and 
vigour  of  body  which  otherwise  he  would  never 
attain. 

*^  An  examination  of  the  human  frame  demon- 
strates that  it  was  intended  for  motion,  alter- 
nately with  repose,  and  not  for  a  state  of  abso- 
lute quiescence.  The  action  of  the  muscles  is 
necessary  to  aid  in  circulating  the  blood  and 
in  completing  the  process  of  digestion,  as  well 
as  to  insure  a  regular  motion  of  the  bowels. 
The  rising  generation  would  be  much  benefited 
if  instruction  in  any  branch  of  natural  history 
formed  a  part  of  their  education ;  young  per- 
sons would  then  be  furnished  with  motives  for 
taking  exercise  out  of  doors,  to  the  manifest 
advantage  of  the  figure  of  the  body  and  the 
tendencies  of  the  mind. 

"  Agul,  a  voluptuary,  who  could  be  man- 
aged but  with  difficulty  by  his  physician,  on 
finding  himself  extremely  ill  from  indolence 
and  intemperance,  requested  advice.  *Eat  a 
basilisk  stewed  in  rose  water,^  replied  the  phy- 
sician. In  vain  did  the  slaves  search  for  a 
hasilish  until  they  met  with  Zadig,  who,  ap- 
proaching Agul,  exclaimed,  *  Behold  that  which 
thou  desires t !  But,  my  lord/  continued  he,  *  it 


14  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

is  not  to  be  eaten ;  all  its  virtue  must  enter 
through  thy  pores  ;  I  have,  therefore,  enclosed 
it  in  a  little  ball,  blown  up,  and  covered  with 
a  fine  skin  ;  thou  must  strike  this  ball  with  all 
thy  might,  and  I  must  strike  it  back  again 
for  a  considerable  time,  and  by  observing  this 
regimen,  and  taking  no  other  drink  than  rose- 
water  for  a  few  days,  thou  wilt  see  and  ac- 
knowledge the  effect  of  my  art.'  The  first 
day  Agul  was  out  of  breath,  and  thought  he 
should  have  died  of  fatigue ;  the  second  he  was 
less  fatigued  and  slept  better ;  in  eight  days 
he  recovered  all  his  strength.  Zadig  then 
said  to  him :  *  There  is  no  such  thing  in  na- 
ture as  a  basilisk  !  but  thou  hast  taken  exercise 
and  been  temperate,  and  hast,  therefore,  recovered 
thy  health  P  '^ — Penny  Oyc,  Analeptics, 

For  the  young  men  of  our  cities  and 
v/  towns  it  would  be  of  great  service  to  spend 
a  few  weeks  during  the  summer,  for  several 
years  successively,  in  field  labour ;  to  follow 
the  plow,  handle  the  pitch-fork,  and  swing  the 
scythe  and  cradle,  with  due  moderation,  would 
give  them  physical  power  and  solidity  of  muscle 
that  would  never  be  attained  by  the  desk  or 
counter.  To  those  who  are  unwilling  to  have 
recourse  to  such  a  method  of  forming  a  sub- 
stantial physical  constitution,  I  would  advise 
riding  on  horseback,  and  scouring  the  moun- 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  15 

tains  and  valleys  on  foot,  making  geological 
or  botanical  collections,  or,  under  certain  limi- 
tations, hunting  and  fishing  will,  in  some  sort, 
answer  as  a  substitute  for  field  labour.  Some 
method  of  free,  vigorous  exercise,  entered 
upon  from  choice,  ccm  amove,  in  the  open  air, 
and  in  good  company,  for  a  portion  of  the  year, 
is  an  indispensable  condition  of  good  health 
and  a  vigorous  body. 

"  The  importance  to  be  attached  to  exer- 
cise, and  its  inseparable  connexion  with  good 
health,  was  better  understood  by  the  ancient 
Greeks  and  Eomans,  especially  by  the  former, 
than  by  ourselves.  They  saw  more  clearly 
that  the  perfection  of  the  whole  man  was  to 
be  effectually  obtained  only  by  a  due  develop- 
ment of  his  physical  as  well  as  his  intellectual 
nature ;  and  that  the  healthy  condition  of  the 
mind  depended  on  a  perfectly  healthy  condi- 
tion of  the  body.  Hence,  they  made  the  two 
parts  of  education  an  almost  equally  serious 
business,  and  did  not  leave  exercise  to  be  a 
matter  of  accident ;  hence  the  importance  they 
attached  to  the  gymnasium  and  its  athletic  ex- 
ercises. The  *  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body,' 
(not  either  alone,)  was  the  almost  proverbial 
expression  of  well-being  ;  and  surely  the  emi- 
nent intellectual  capacity  and  achievements 
exhibited  by  this  remarkable  nation,  will  serve 


16  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

to  show  that  the  mind  is  no  loser  by  due  at- 
tention to  the  body.'^* 

2.  Another  thing  essential  to  physical 
strength,  is  suitable  attention  to  diet. 

Food  should  be  of  the  right  kind,  taken  in 
suitable  quantities,  and  at  the  proper  seasons. 
These  rules,  we  are  aware,  are  not  very  specific, 
and  may  be  of  little  use.  They  are  introduced 
in  this  place  as  an  occasion  for  a  few  practical 
remarks  which  are  vitally  important,  and 
which  will  do  much  towards  regulating  the 
matter  of  regimen.  Food,  in  both  kind  and 
degree,  should  be  suited  to  the  strength  of 
the  constitution  and  the  state  of  the  digestive 
organs ;  and  a  little  attention  to  the  subject 
of  dietetics,  and  an  ordinary  amount  of  com- 
mon-sense, will  furnish  adequate  guidance  in 
all  ordinary  cases.  Overtasking  the  digestive 
powers,  or  denying  them  the  means  of  adequate 
employment,  either,  will,  in  all  cases,  be  found 
prejudicial  to  the  physical  functions,  and,  of 
course,  inconsistent  with  physical  solidity  and 
vigour.  While  too  much  animal  food  should 
be  avoided  on  the  one  hand,  a  mere  vegetable 
diet  should  be  eschewed  on  the  other.  In  a 
healthy  state  of  the  digestive  organs,  a  diet 

*  Good  Health :  the  Possibility,  Duty,  and  Means  of  Obtain- 
ing and  Keeping  it. — An  excellent  little  work,  published  by 
Carlton  &  Phillips,  and  revised  by  D.  P.  Kidder. 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  17 

upon  bran  bread  and  milk  is  quite  as  far  below 
as  three  hearty  meals  of  beef  and  bacon  would 
be  above  the  standard  of  propriety. 

"  It  should  ever  be  remembered,  that  the 
object  in  eating  is  not  to  see  how  much  can  be 
taken  without  suffering  or  injur}^,  but  rather 
how  little.  The  repair  of  the  body  and  tlie 
energies  of  the  mind,  will  be  best  secured  by 
just  so  much  of  wholesome  food  as  is  really 
required,  and  no  more.  There  can,  however, 
be  no  virtue  or  wisdom  in  any  degree  of  absti- 
nence which  deprives  us  of  the  blessings  of 
strength,  ease,  and  energy ;  but  there  is  wis- 
dom in  finding  out,  as  nearly  as  we  can,  how 
much  aliment  will  procure  these  for  us,  and  in 
limiting  ourselves  to  that  quantity." 

The  following  illustration  of  this  important 
subject  is  from  the  pen  of  Addison : — "  It  is 
said  of  Diogenes,  that  meeting  a  young  man 
who  was  going  to  a  feast,  he  took  him  up  in 
the  street  and  carried  him  home  to  his  friends, 
as  one  who  was  running  into  imminent  danger, 
had  not  he  prevented  him.  What  would  that 
philosopher  have  said  had  he  been  present  at 
the  gluttony  of  a  modern  meal  ?  Would  he 
not  have  thought  the  master  of  the  family 
mad,  and  have  begged  his  servants  to  tie  down 
his  hands  had  he  seen  him  devour  fowl,  fish, 

and  flesh,  swallow  oil  and  vinegar,  wines  and 

2- 


18  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

spices,  throw  down  salads  of  twenty  different 
herbs,  sauce  of  a  hundred  ingredients,  confec- 
tions and  fruits  of  numberless  sweets  and  fla- 
vours ?  What  unnatural  motions  and  counter- 
ferments  must  such  a  medley  of  intemperance 
produce  in  the  body  !  For  my  own  part,  when 
I  behold  a  fashionable  table  set  out  in  all  its 
magnificence,  I  fancy  I  see  gouts  and  dropsies, 
fevers  and  lethargies,  with  other  innumera- 
ble distempers,  lying  in  ambush  among  the 
dishes.'' — SpectaU>r, 

3.  Necessary  sleep,  taken  at  the  proper 
time,  is  another  condition  of  health  and  physi- 
cal vigour. 

"  Healthy  sleep  is  the  perfect  rest  and  in- 
action of  the  brain,  and,  therefore,  of  every 
function  that  implies  consciousness.  It  con- 
sequently draws  with  it  the  repose  of  the  volun- 
tary muscles,  and  the  cessation  of  almost  every 
other  mode  of  expenditure,  while  it  leaves  the 
involuntary  functions,  whicli  nourish  the  frame 
and  repair  the  waste  of  the  tissues,  under  the 
circumstances  most  favourable  to  their  ac- 
tivity. This  is  wliat  constitutes  sleep  the 
great  *  foster-nurse  of  nature.'" 

The  practice  of  turning  night  into  day  and 
day  into  night,  cannot  be  too  severely  repro- 
bated. A  large  class  of  young  men  are  ex- 
posed to  the  temptation  of  spending,  in  dissi- 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  19 

pating  pleasures,  all  that  part  of  the  night 
which  is  the  most  naturally  adapted  to  re- 
freshing sleep,  and  trying  to  compensate  the 
system  for  the  loss  of  quiet  rest  during  the 
fore  part  of  the  night,  by  sleeping  away  the 
morning — the  season  when  the  air  is  bracing, 
and  all  nature  is  wakeful  and  joyous.  The 
maxim  of  Poor  Eichard,  alias  Dr.  Franklin, 
**  Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise,  makes  a  man 
healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise,"  is  based  upon  the 
soundest  philosophy,  but  is  most  horribly  old- 
fashioned  in  the  estimation  of  too  many  of  the 
young  men  of  the  present  day. 

4.  Cleanliness  cannot  be  too  highly  esti- 
mated. In  order  to  this,  frequent  bathing 
with  pure  cold  water  is  indispensable. 

"  Perspiration  is  the  channel  by  which  salts 
and  other  principles,  no  longer  useful  in  the 
system,  are  removed  from  it.  According  to 
Thenard,  it  consists  of  a  large  quantity  of 
water,  a  small  quantity  of  an  acid,  which,  ac- 
cording to  circumstances,  may  be  either  acetic, 
lactic,  or  phosphoric,  and  some  salts,  chiefly 
hydrochlorate  of  soda  and  potassa.  Taking 
the  lowest  estimate  of  Lavoisier,  the  skin  ap- 
pears to  be  endowed  with  the  power  of  remov- 
ing from  the  system,  in  the  space  of  twenty- 
four  hours,  twenty  ounces  of  waste ;  the  reten- 
tion of  this  in  the  system  is  productive  of  groat 


20  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

injury,  and  the  inconvenience  is  only  lessened 
by  the  increased  action  of  some  internal  organ, 
which  becomes  oppressed  by  the  double  load 
thus  cast  upon  it.  Even  the  retention  of  the 
perspired  matter  close  to  the  skin,  from  neglect 
of  changing  the  clothes,  is  the  source  of  many 
cutaneous  diseases,  particularly  in  spring  and 
summer.'^ — Penny  Ency.,  Bathing, 

To  remove  this  injurious  matter  from  the 
skin,  I  say.  Bathe  frequently  in  cold  water. 

The  young  man  who  is  so  afflicted  with 
hydrophobia  that  the  sight  of  a  shower-bath 
would  cause  his  teeth  to  chatter,  is  in  a  fair 
way,  sooner  or  later,  to  fall  a  victim  to  dys- 
pepsia, bronchitis,  nervousness,  or  consump- 
tion. 

What  I  say  of  bathing,  of  course,  is  to  be 
understood  as  applicable  only  to  a  healthy 
condition  of  the  system.  When  the  system  is 
enfeebled  by  disease,  the  bath  should  be  regu- 
lated by  the  advice  of  a  physician."' 

5.  Exposure  to  the  extremes  of  weather, 
under  all  ordinary  circumstances,  is  a  means 
of  bracing  the  system  and  fortifying  it  against 
the  evils  which  often  result  from  atmospheric 
changes.  A  young  man  who  is  never  exposed 
to  wind  and  weather  would  be  very  likely  to 

**  For  a  more  extended  view  of  this  subject  than  can  here  be 
taken,  see  "Good  Health,"  pp.  104-121. 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  M 

take  cold  if  a  current  of  air  should  fall  upon 
him,  and  if  he  were  to  be  caught  out  in  a  storm 
would  never  expect  to  outlive  the  danger. 
The  feeble  muscles  of  such  boys  are  as  unfit  to 
endure  the  pelting  of  a  storm,  either  by  land 
or  sea,  as  a  piece  of  satin  would  be  for  the  sail 
of  a  man-of-war. 

6.  The  final  condition  of  physical  strength 
which  I  shall  mention,  is  temperance  in  all 
things. 

The  word  temperance,  in  its  most  general 
signification,  implies  moderation,  or  self-gov- 
ernment, and  is  applicable  to  every  species  of 
indulgence.  It  shall  not  be  my  purpose  at 
present  to  treat  of  each  department  of  this 
great  and  important  theme,  but  to  call  atten- 
tion to  a  few  of  its  leading  features. 

The  ordinary  use  of  the  word  temperance,  at 
present,  implies  almost  exclusively  abstinence 
from  intoxicating  drinks,  or,  in  its  lowest  sense, 
the  negation  of  habits  of  drunkenness.  To 
say  nothing  of  the  moral  influence  of  the  habit 
of  using  intoxicating  drinks  as  a  beverage,  its 
influence  upon  the  vital  organs  of  the  system 
is  such  as  to  place  such  drinks  under  the  ban, 
with  all  who  regard  life  and  health.  There  is 
no  safety  to  the  young  man,  from  the  dread- 
ful evils  of  intemperance  and  ruin,  but  in  the 
Scripture  rule  in  relation  to  all  sinful  courses, 


22  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

**  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not  the  unclean 
thing.''  The  social  glass,  so  insidious  in  its 
advances  as  that  it  gives  no  alarm,  is  the 
opening  door  to  all  the  mischiefs  and  miseries 
of  confirmed  drunkenness.  Every  repetition 
of  the  draught  tends  to  form  an  appetite  and 
fix  a  habit,  which  will  continue  to  cry,  Give ! 
give !  until  it  brings  disease  and  premature 
death  in  its  train ! 

I  would  advise  all  young  men,  who  can 
have  access  to  them,  to  examine  Dr.  Se wall's 
series  of  engravings,  showing  the  appearance 
of  the  human  stomach  through  the  different 
stages  of  drinking  intoxicating  liquors — from 
the  stage  called  temperate  drinking,  to  that 
attended  with  delirium  tremens.  Here  you 
will  see  with  your  own  eyes  what  havoc 
alcohol  makes  upon  the  delicate  coats  of  the 
stomach,  and  how  soon  it  begins  its  career  of 
disorganization  and  ruin. 

o 

There  is  a  strong  temptation  to  enlarge 
upon  this  point  beyond  due  bounds.  My 
limits  will  not  admit  of  saying  all  that  I 
should  say  in  a  temperance  lecture,  and  I 
must  leave  my  young  friends  to  those  who, 
of  set  purpose,  have  discussed  this  important 
topic,  and  presented  its  bearings  and  interests 
at  large.  It  will  be  sufficient  for  my  present 
purpose   to   say,  in   general,   that   the   most 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  28 

stringent  maxims  of  temperance  embraced  in 
absolute  teetotalism,  meet  my  most  cordial 
approbation,  and  cannot  be  too  scrupulously 
observed  by  the  young  man  who  would  ac- 
quire and  maintain  physical  manhood. 

With  this  brief  statement  of  the  conditions 
of  physical  development  and  physical  matu- 
rity, it  may  be  appropriate  to  give  a  few  illus- 
trations of  the  real  importance  of  the  end  had 
in  view. 

I  need  not  attempt  to  prove  that  if  you  ly 
would  be  useful  members  of  society,  you  will 
stand  in  need  of  a  strong  and  vigorous  phys- 
ical constitution.  S(mU,  to  act  in  the  affairs 
of  this  world,  must  have  bodies  to  inhabit ; 
and,  as  the  soul  acts  through  the  bodily 
organs,  if  those  organs  are  imperfect  or 
weak,  the  mind  will  necessarily  be  much 
crippled  in  its  energies,  and  retarded  in  its 
aspirations.  Whether  you  are  a  merchant, 
a  farmer,  a  mechanic,  a  physician,  a  lawyer, 
or  a  clergyman,  you  want  a  sound,  strong 
body.  Without  solid  sinews  and  muscles,  and 
strong  nerves,  you  Avill  probably  drag  out  a 
miserable  existence,  and  be  comparatively 
useless.  Would  you  be  a  dyspeptic,  or  a  hy- 
pochondriac, and  die  a  thousand  deaths  be- 
fore the  time  really  comes  for  you  to 
close   your  probation,   then  take  no   means 


24  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

to  secure  and  preserve  a  vigorous  physical 
system. 

"  There  are  few  thino^s  more  calculated  to 
stir  our  hearts  with  deep  regret  than  to  see  a 
young  man,  whose  mind  has  been  trained  to 
labour,  and  stored  with  knowledge,  whose 
heart  beats  with  sympathy  for  his  fellow- 
men,  and  whose  soul  pants  for  honourable 
activity,  but  whose  feeble  frame,  like  a  frail 
bark  driven  by  a  mighty  engine,  trembles  at 
every  impulse  of  the  power  within.  And  how 
keenly  does  such  a  one  feel  his  own  condition  ! 
He  sees  others  ascend  whither  he  longs  to 
rise,  but  cannot,  because  of  his  'body  of 
death.'  His  burning  eye,  like  the  eagle's, 
is  fixed  upon  the  sun,  and  he  longs  to  soar 
beyond  the  clouds,  and  revel  in  purer  light 
above ;  but  a  feeble  frame,  like  a  broken 
wing,  holds  him  down  to  earth,  and  all  his 
efforts  to  launch  away  end  only  in  disappoint- 
ment and  new  anguish.'^'"' 

There  are  instances  in  which  a  feeble  body 
is  inhabited  by  a  soul  so  strong  in  its  im- 
pulses and  purposes,  that  it  will,  for  a  time, 
act  vigorously  in  the  great  battle  of  life  ;  but 
they  constitute  the  exception  and  not  the 
rule.     Besides,  it  should  be  considered  that 

^  Discourse  before  the  Belles-Lettres  Society  of  Dickinson 
College;  by  Rev.  J.  Towiiley  Crane,  A.  M. 


PHYSICAL  MANHOOD.  25 

if  these  persons  had  a  physical  system  equal 
to  the  texture  of  their  minds,  they  would  do 
proportion  ably  more  for  the  world. 

You  may  have  the  prospect  of  wealth, 
which  will  place  you  above  the  necessities  of 
labour ;  but  you  should  not  forget  that  riches 
often  "  take  to  themselves  wings  and  fly 
away/'  And  if  you  should  at  last  be  left  to 
your  own  resources,  it  will  be  convenient  to 
find  yourself  able  to  resort  to  honest  labour 
to  secure  your  bread.  Should  you  be  cast 
away  upon  some  inclement  shore,  or  wrecked 
at  sea-^should  you  only  be  obliged  to  ply  the 
pump  on  a  vessel  to  avoid  drowning — it  will 
be  well  for  you  if  your  hands  and  heart  are 
equal  to  the  emergency. 

The  late  King  of  the  French,  Louis  Philippe, 
in  the  emergencies  of  the  great  French  Eevo- 
lution,  which  beheaded  the  legitimate  sover- 
eign, was  a  fugitive  in  the  United  States, 
and,  during  his  wanderings,  performed  prodi- 
gies in  the  way  of  toil  and  exposure.  He 
came  from  Canada  into  the  western  part  of 
the  State  of  New- York,  travelled  on  foot  east 
to  the  Susquehanna  at  Owego ;  from  that 
point  descended  that  rapid  and  crooked  stream 
in  a  canoe  to  Harrisburgh ;  crossed  the  Alle- 
ghany Mountains,  and,  in  a  small,  flat-bottom 
boat,  descended  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi 


2Q  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

to  New-Orleans.  He  slept  so  long  upon  a 
hard  bed,  during  his  wanderings  in  America, 
that  lie  never  more  became  reconciled  to 
feathers.  When  in  France,  we  were  shown 
his  beds,  in  several  of  his  palaces,  and,  in  all 
cases,  his  side  was  hard,  being  composed  of  a 
plank,  covered  by  a  thin  mattress.  When  the 
kings  of  Europe  were  trembling  upon  their 
thrones,  at  the  commencement  of  the  late 
convulsions,  he  said  to  a  friend  that  he  was 
the  only  king  in  Europe  fit  for  his  place,  for 
he  was  the  only  one  who  could  black  his  own 
boots. 

If  kings  may  find  it  convenient  to  be  able 
to  endure  hardships  and  privations,  and  to 
minister  to  their  own  wants,  may  not  all 
others?  When  the  emergency  comes,  he  is 
happy  who  is  prepared  for  the  struggle. 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  27 


II -INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD. 

"BRETHREN,  BE  NOT  CHILDREN  IN  UNDERSTANDING,    .    .   BUT  IN 
UNDERSTANDING  BE  MEN." — I  COR.  XIV,  20. 

While  but  a  youth,  Solomon  was  promoted  to 
the  throne  of  Israel.  His  father  had  been 
renowned  for  his  battles,  and  had  acquired 
great  wealth ;  and  to  all  the  glory  he  had 
attained,  through  his  extraordinary  military 
prowess,  and  the  special  providence  of  God, 
Solomon  succeeded.  He  was  a  most  loved 
and  cherished  son,  and  had  been  tenderly 
nurtured.  What  more  natural  than  that  he 
should  look  to  further  conquests,  and  an  in- 
creased accumulation  of  wealth,  and  that  he 
might  live  many  years  in  the  enjoyment  of 
all  that  this  world  could  afford.  This  would 
have  been  the  natural  tendency  of  an  aspiring 
mind — and  especially  the  mind  of  a  young 
man — left  to  its  own  natural  promptings. 
Solomon's  mind  had  early  been  imbued  with 
religious  truth — he  had  a  true  idea  of  human 
responsibility  and  human  destiny.  When, 
therefore,  God  said  to  him,  "Ask  what  I 
shall  give  thee,''  his  petition  was :  "  Give  me 
now  wisdom  and  knowledge,  that  I  may  go 
out  and  come  in  before  this  people."     This 


28  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

choice  is  not  only  suitable  and  wise  for  a  king 
— -just  entering  upon  the  high  functions  of  his 
office — but  for  every  young  man  who  is  about 
to  take  upon  himself  the  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities of  a  citizen. 

It  might  seem  too  much  like  hair-splitting 
to  attempt  a  distinction  between  "  wisdom '' 
and  ''  knowledge/'  as  it  may  be  supposed  that 
they  are  mere  synonyms,  and  are  both  used 
for  the  sake  of  emphasis.  I  shall,  however, 
venture  to  suggest  a  distinction,  which  I 
think  justified  both  by  the  original  and  the 
use  of  the  words,  which  will  afford  some  aid 
in  the  discussion  of  the  subject  of  the  present 
lecture.  Knowledge  implies  intelligence,  or 
the  capacity  and  furnishment  of  the  mind  ; 
and  wisdom,  ability  and  aptness  of  the  mind 
to  appropriate  its  stores  to  practical  purposes. 
Here  we  have  precisely  the  two  ideas  which  I 
wish  to  present  in  some  detail,  and  which 
shall  be  considered  in  the  light  of  the  passage 
which  I  have  selected  for  my  motto.  I  shall 
endeavour  to  show  that  your  minds  must  first 
be  furnished  with  facts  and  principles,  and 
that  then  you  must  acquire  a  facility  in 
using  them ;  and  that  this  is  that  very  manli- 
ness of  intellectual  character  which  the  apostle 
enforces  with  so  much  gravity  and  with  such 
force  of  reason. 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  29 

I.  First,  then,  I  shall  speak  of  the  nature 
and  subjects  of  knowledge. 

The  knowledge  of  God,  or  religious  knowl- 
edge, the  most  important  of  all  sciences,  I 
shall  reserve  for  separate  consideration,  and 
therefore  shall  not  here  embrace  it  within  my 
classification. 

1.  The  first  branch  of  knowledge  I  shall 
notice,  is  self-knotvledge. 

That  sage  maxim  which  was  engraven  upon 
the  portals  of  the  temple  of  Delphi,  yvoydi 
oeavTov,  Jcnoiv  thyself,  whether  it  be  regarded 
as  a  maxim  of  mere  human  prudence,  or  of 
the  religion  of  the  Bible,  stands  out  pre- 
eminent in  importance.  That  shrewd  think- 
er, Coleridge,  says : — "  There  is  one  knowl- 
edge, which  it  is  every  man's  interest  and 
duty  to  acquire,  namely,  self-knowledge ;  or 
to  what  end  was  man  alone,  of  all  animals, 
imbued  by  the  Creator  with  the  faculty  of 
self-consciousness?''  Again:  "In  countries 
eiilightened  by  the  gospel,  the  most  formi- 
dable, and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  the  most  fre- 
quent impediment,  to  men's  turning  their 
minds  inward  upon  themselves,  is,  that  they 
are  afraid  of  what  they  shall  find  there. 
There  is  an  aching  hollowness  in  the  bosom, 
a  dark  cold  speck  at  the  heart,  an  obscure 
and  boding  sense  of  somewhat,  that  must  be 


30  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

kept  out  of  sight  of  the  conscience ;  some 
secret  lodger,  whom  they  can  neither  resolve 
to  reject  nor  retain/' 

We  should  know  our  own  composition  and 
character,  our  constitutional  tendencies,  the 
temperament  of  our  minds,  our  weaknesses, 
habits,  faults,  wants.  These  are  matters 
which  will  be  studied  and  understood  bj 
others ;  and  why  should  we  be  ignorant  of 
them?  Without  this  knowledge  we  can  do 
little  towards  our  own  advancement — we  shall 
constantly  misjudge  wdth  regard  to  the  appro- 
priate means  of  improvement,  and  our  efforts 
will  be  as  powerless  as  they  are  ill-chosen. 

We  must  form  a  proper  estimate  of  our 
powers,  the  measure  of  our  intellectual 
strength,  our  particular  adaptation,  our  men- 
tal complexion,  the  peculiar  caste  and  strength 
of  genius  with  which  God  has  endowed  us. 
Without  this  knowledge,  we  shall  be  likely  to 
miss  our  way  in  the  selection  of  the  profession 
or  course  of  life  to  which  we  are  adapted,  and 
in  which  we  would  act  with  the  greatest  use- 
fulness and  credit. 

We  should  also  be  able  rightly  to  estimate 
our  susceptibilities ;  not  only  our  suscepti- 
bilities of  improvement  and  of  happiness,  but 
also  of  prejudice,  of  temptations,  of  being 
governed  by  circumstances.     He  knows  but 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  ol 

little  of  himself  who  has  not  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  manner  in  which  he  is 
affected  by  the  objects  and  influences  by 
which  he  is  surrounded.  He  will  neither 
know  how  to  improve,  nor  to  guard  himself 
against,  surrounding  circumstances,  and,  con- 
sequently, all  the  knowledge  he  may  attain 
of  his  wants,  dangers,  and  capabilities,  will  be 
to  very  little  purpose. 

The  self-knowledge  which  I  urge  is  not  a 
natural  and  spontaneous  growth,  but  is  the 
result  of  patient  and  diligent  effort  in  using 
the  means  of  its  attainment. 

The  individual  w^ho  would  know  himself 
must  commence  his  efforts  for  the  attainment 
of  this  object  from  a  deep  conviction  of  its 
importance,  and  an  equally  deep  and  strong 
conviction  that  he  is  deficient  in  that  species 
of  knowledge.  That  young  man,  Avho,  from 
a  hasty  measurement  of  himself,  has  formed 
a  most  favourable  opinion  of  his  own  powers 
and  qualifications,  has  not  yet  sounded  the 
depths  of  his  own  emptiness — knows  little  of 
what  there  is  in  his  character  to  be  remedied, 
and  the  specific  direction  in  which  he  is  to 
look  for  aid.  They  who  really  know  least  of 
themselves,  will  be  likely  to  have  the  least 
idea  of  the  importance  of  self-knowledge,  and, 
consequently,  will  be  the  last  to  move  in  the 


32  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

direction  of  its  attainment.  They  see  them- 
selves in  a  false  light ;  they  are  blind  to 
their  faults,  while  others  not  only  see  them, 
but  see  also  their  self-deception.  The  false 
estimate  they  make  of  themselves  is  plain  to 
everybody  else,  but  is  wholly  undiscovered 
by  themselves.  Well  might  such  pray,  in  the 
language  of  the  old  Scotch  bard : — 

*'  0  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  see  oursels  as  ithers  see  us ! 
It  wad  frae  mony  a  folly  free  us, 

An'  foolish  notion : 
How  mony  airs  in  gait  wad  lea  us, 

An'  e'en  devotion !" — ^Burns. 

It  often  happens  in  such  cases  that  nothing 
but  some  grand  blunder — some  stupendous 
failure — will  suffice  to  open  the  eyes  of  the 
victims  of  self-ignorance.  The  pangs  of  dis- 
appointment, the  mortification  of  disgrace, 
alone  can  bring  them  to  their  senses.  Pa- 
rental admonition,  or  friendly  warning,  makes 
no  impression  upon  them.  Full  of  them- 
selves, and  equally  full  of  contempt  and 
scorn  for  the  weak  ones  who  have  never  had 
the  penetration  to  appreciate  their  splendid 
abilities,  they  launch  out  into  depths  that 
tliey  are  not  able  to  fathom,  and  are  lost — 
undertake  to  navigate  unknown  seas,  and 
make  shipwreck. 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  3^ 

The  means  to  be  employed  in  the  pursuit 
of  self-knowledge  are  easily  suggested. 

Constant  and  thorough  self-examination  is 
the  first  point  which  naturally  presents  itself 
in  this  connexion.  The  study  of  self  is  a 
great  and  difficult  study.  We  are  naturally 
blind  to  our  own  faults  and  infirmities,  and, 
consequently,  slow  in  coming  to  a  just  esti- 
mate of  our  own  character.  In  looking  into 
the  mysteries  of  our  own  hearts,  we  should  be 
suspicious  of  undue  partiality  to  ourselves 
whenever  we  find  anything  there  with  which 
we  are  specially  pleased ;  and  when  we  feel  a 
disposition  to  overlook,  or  glance  hastily  over, 
our  failings,  or  any  tendency  that  is  certainly 
wrong  or  doubtful.  In  all  such  cases,  we 
should  force  ourselves  to  pause,  and  look  a 
little  more  thoroughly  into  the  matter,  and 
come  to  no  determination  until  we  shall  have 
thoroughly  sifted  our  motives,  intentions,  and 
even  feelings — the  bodings  and  tendencies 
of  our  hearts.  Let  it  always  be  borne  in 
mind  that  we  had  far  better  over-estimate 
our  vices  than  our  virtues — our  ignorance 
than  our  knowledge — our  weaknesses  than 
our  strength. 

The  spirit  in  which  this  examination  should 
be  entered  upon  and  prosecuted  should  be  not 
only  impartial  and  earnest,  but  devout     W^ 


34:  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

should  always  ask  divine  light  to  guide  us  to 
right  conclusions.  This  is  the  point  where 
we  should  especially  claim  the  promise,  and 
follow  the  directions  of  the  apostle  James : — 
*'  If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of 
God,  that  giveth  to  all  liberally,  and  up- 
braideth  not;  and  it  shall  be  given  him.'^ 
Going  to  God  in  prayer  should  also  be  at- 
tended by  an  earnest  and  devout  reading  of 
the  Scriptures.  The  word  of  God  is  the  mir- 
ror which  displays  our  moral  features  as  they 
really  are.  It  is  a  perfect  moral  standard, 
and,  when  faithfully  consulted,  does  not  fail 
to  show  us  our  failures  and  waywardness. 

We  shall  also  be  greatly  aided  in  this  work 
by  having  before  us  the  best  models  of  man- 
ners and  morals.  Where  we  see  a  worthy 
example — a  man  of  pure  morals  and  unex- 
ceptionable manners — we  should  try  to  con- 
ceive ourselves  in  his  position  ;  and,  if  we 
are  greatly  his  inferior,  we  shall  be  struck 
with  an  evident  incongruity  between  what 
we  are  and  what  sve  behold — his  charac- 
ter and  our  tendencies  would  be  at  odds. 
Our  reflections  would  naturally  be  these : 
I  would  not  have  been  likely  to  do  thus 
under  such  circumstances ;  I  could  not  well 
have  resisted  such  terrible  temptations ;  I 
should  not  have  attained  such  eminent  and 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  85 

enviable  self-denial — endured  sucli  labour,  and 
suffered  such  privations  for  such  reasons,  and 
stimulated  by  such  motives.  There  is  a  les- 
son in  this,  which  brings  home  to  our  view  our 
deficiencies  and  wants. 

Beading  will  be  found  exceedingly  useful 
as  an  aid  in  the  study  of  ourselves.  More 
especially  books  which  display  the  depths  of 
human  character,  and  expose  the  sophisms  by 
which  men  deceive  themselves,  should  have 
our  attention.  There  is  a  world  of  wisdom 
in  the  little  book  on  "  Self-Knowledge,"  by 
Dr.  Mason.  Every  young  man  should  read 
this  book,  and  repeat  the  reading,  until  its 
great  principles  and  practical  rules  are  thor- 
oughly mastered,  and  leave  a  permanent  im- 
pression upon  the  memory."' 

2.  Another  branch  of  knowledge,  is  a  knowl- 
edge of  men. 

The  great  importance  of  this  species  of 
knowledge  will  be  at  once  suggested  by  the 
fact,  that  we  are  constantly  coming  into  con- 
tact with  other  men.  Our  intercourse  with 
them,  and  their  influence  over  us,  are  fruitful 
of  good  or  evil  results,  as  we  are  prepared,  or 
not  prepared,  to  fix  a  right  estimate  of  them. 
A  knowledge  of  human  character  is  absolutely 

^  The  best  edition  of  this  book  is  published  s^i  the  Method- 
ist Book  Room. 


36  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

essential  to  success  in  any  profession  or  busi- 
ness. For  want  of  this  we  are  liable  to  be 
deceived,  supplanted,  and  thwarted,  at  every 
turn.  I  can  assure  you,  young  gentlemen, 
that  your  success  in  the  world,  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, will  depend  upon  your  ability  to  fathom 
the  mysteries  of  human  character — to  detect, 
and  arm  yourselves  against,  the  arts  of  men 
whose  whole  business  is  to  take  advantage  of 
the  weaknesses  of  others,  and  to  become  rich 
by  plundering  the  wrecks  which  they  have 
occasioned.  These  miserable  blood-suckers 
are  constantly  hunting  for  simpletons  upon 
whom  to  glut  their  avarice  or  their  ambition. 
They  pay  special  attention  to  the  young, 
the  adventurous,  the  precipitate,  the  reckless, 
and  the  inexperienced.  Like  their  master, 
whom  they  serve,  they  go  about  "  seeking 
whom  they  may  devour  ;^^  and  woe  to  him 
who  is  not  acquainted  with  their  wiles. 

Human  character  is  to  be  learned  by  read- 
ing and  observation.  History — and  especially 
biography- — is  replete  with  instruction  upon 
this  great  subject.  The  lives  of  great  and 
good  men — philosophers,  statesmen,  divines — 
the  biographies  of  pious  men  and  women,  will 
not  fail  to  shed  much  light  upon  human 
character  in  general.  You  will  not  find  it 
necessary  to  go  very  deeply  into  the  history 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  37 

of  crime  in  the  prosecution  of  this  study. 
Crime  is  contracted  by  contact.  The  less  we 
know  of  its  actual  forms,  the  less  we  see  and 
read  of  them,  the  better.  In  the  history  of 
a  pious  man — following  him  through  his  juve- 
nile years,  and  observing  all  his  struggles 
with  temptation,  his  early  aberrations,  and 
later  relapses — there  will  be  developed  enough 
of  the  weaknesses  and  corruptions  of  the  hu- 
man heart  to  serve  as  warnings,  without  your 
diving  into  haunts  of  vice,  either  by  actual 
observation,  or  by  reading  the  history,  espe- 
cially the  private  history,  of  noted  sinners. 

In  your  intercourse  with  society,  you  will 
see  the  fruits  of  human  corruption  in  real 
life  in  sufficiency — yea,  far  more  than  will  be 
for  your  good — without  studying  the  fictitious 
characters,  which  infidel  and  licentious  writers 
have  conjured  up,  to  meet  the  vitiated  taste 
of  the  novel-reading  community,  and  to  lead 
away  the  young  from  the  paths  of  virtue. 
The  idea  that  human  character  is  more  truth- 
fully developed  in  works  of  fiction  than  in 
veritable  history,  is  an  absurdity  too  monstrous 
to  be  entertained  for  a  moment.  You  might 
as  well  be  led  to  believe  that  the  most  miser- 
able daubing  of  the  most  bunglin;g  artist,  far 
exceeds  the  original;  that  you  could  learn 
more  of  the  real  appearance  and  topography 


38  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

of  New- York,  Paris,  or  London,  from  some  pic- 
ture, or  mere  fancy  sketch,  tlian  by  personal 
inspection.  There  may  be  a  bolder  outline, 
higher  and  stronger  colours  in  the  copy  than 
in  the  original ;  but  there  is  not  therefore 
more  of  truth.  The  impressions  of  the  imagin- 
ation are  sometimes  stronger  than  those  of  the 
eye  or  ear ;  but  what  of  that  ?  Does  that 
prove  that  the  visions  of  the  imagination  are 
more  truthful  pictures  of  facts  and  objects  of 
sense,  than  those  which  come  through  the 
senses  ?  Certainly  not.  Go  not  then,  my 
young  friends,  to  the  fictions,  or  popular  nov- 
els of  the  day,  for  a  knowledge  of  human 
character,  but  study  the  thing  itself. 

If  you  add  to  reading  the  habit  of  careful 
observation,  you  will  be  able  to  store  up  such 
facts  as  Avill  enable  you  to  come  to  wise  and 
safe  conclusions,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  with 
regard  to  the  character  of  men.  You  should 
make  every  man,  woman,  and  child  around 
you  a  hook,  from  which  you  make  it  your 
daily  business  to  derive  lessons  of  instruction. 
Make  men  your  study — observe  and  scrutinize 
their  conduct.  Mark  the  connexion  between 
their  conduct  and  certain  results — the  in- 
fluence they  exert  upon  society,  and  the  means 
of  that  influence — the  impressions  they  make, 
the  opinions  which  are  formed  of  them,  and 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  39 

how  it  all  comes  to  pass — why  it  is  that 
one  man  is  respected,  and  another  despised ; 
one  loved,  and  another  hated ;  one  has  un- 
bounded influence  over  his  fellow-men,  and 
another  is  a  mere  cipher  in  society. 

This  knowledge  is  gained,  not  by  asking 
questions,  and  prying  into  the  secrets  of  other 
men,  but  by  critical  observation  and  patient 
reflection.  A  young  man  who  would  gain 
this  knowledge,  must  keep  his  eyes  wide  open 
— he  must  cultivate  the  habit  of  observing 
and  classifying  the  smallest  things.  Men's 
deeds  must  be  subjected  to  scrutiny  ;  and  the 
impression  they  make,  and  the  judgments  we 
form  of  them,  be  made  matter  of  record  in 
the  memory. 

3.  To  these  branches  of  knowledge  add 
an  acquaintance  with  the  ^physical  world.  The 
history,  geograpliy,  and  natural  productions 
of  the  earth,  spread  out  before  you  a  wide 
field.  Each  of  these  themes  is  sufficient  to 
occupy  the  study  of  ages.  Some  general 
knowledge  of  them  all  may,  however,  be  at- 
tained by  the  improvement  of  such  fragments 
of  time,  as  all  may  command  for  the  pur- 
pose. 

The  books  upon  these  topics  are  so  numer- 
ous and  voluminous,  that  I  cannot  attempt 
to  give  a  catalogue  of  them,  or  even  to  give 


40  MANLY  CHARACTER.      ' 

an  opinion  which  would  guide  you  in  a  selec- 
tion. It  is  most  fortunate  that  we  have  hooks 
upon  these  several  themes  to  suit  almost 
every  condition  and  capacity.  To  say  nothing 
of  the  greatly  improved  text-hooks  which  are 
in  use  in  the  schools,  there  are  condensations 
and  compends  in  ahundance,  which  give  a 
hold  outline  and  a  multitude  of  facts  within 
a  small  space ;  so  that,  in  a  short  time,  much 
may  he  learned  of  the  world  in  which  we 
live. 

It  is  not  always  hest  to  spend  time  upon 
works  which  profess  to  give  multum  in  parvo, 
as  they  seldom  give  a  clear  view  of  anything. 
Such  works  as  take  up  particular  kinds  of 
history,  or  the  geography  and  productions  of 
a  particular  country,  are  often  much  more 
instructive.  As  an  instance  of  this  class  of 
puhlications,  I  would  mention  Mr.  Abbott's 
Historical  Series. 

4.  Finally,  a  competent  knowledge  of 
science  and  letters  should,  by  all  means,  be 
attained.  This  will  embrace  the  knowledge 
of  philosophy — at  least  so  far  as  is  necessary 
to  the  useful  arts ;  the  knowledge  of  history, 
of  poetry,  and  of  divinity. 

Philosophy  will  embrace  the  causes  which 
govern  matter  and  mind — natural,  intellect- 
ual, moral  and  political  philosophy.     Upon 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  41 

these  I  cannot  enlarge  ;  even  a  very  brief  ex- 
position would  carry  me  too  far  into  details. 
A  brief  course  of  reading  and  study  devoted 
to  each  of  these  themes,  with  good  instruc- 
tions, will  meet  all  the  necessities  of  practical 
life.  Even  without  instruction,  so  simple  are 
the  text-books  now  in  use,  that  a  sensible  and 
studious  young  man  may  acquire  a  knowledge 
of  the  elements  of  philosophy  which  will 
qualify  him  to  meet  the  ordinary  exigencies 
of  a  life  of  business,  as  a  farmer,  a  mechanic, 
or  a  merchant.  In  either  of  these  depart- 
ments of  action  he  will  find  it  necessary,  at 
least  in  a  qualified  sense,  to  be  a  philosopher. 
If  possible,  every  young  man  should  study 
chemistry,  natural  philosophy,  intellectual 
philosophy,  botany,  geology,  moral  philos- 
ophy, and  political  economy,  in  an  academy 
under  good  instructions ;  but  where  this  is 
not  practicable,  he  should  avail  himself  of  the 
best  aids  possible,  and  try  to  secure  a  compe- 
tent knowledge  of  these  branches  without 
regular  instructions. 

As  to  divinity,  or  the  science* of  religion, 
no  one,  who  has  a  soul,  should  neglect  it. 
Not  that  every  one  can  or  should  become  a 
divine,  in  the  technical  sense  of  that  term ; 
but  every  one  should  not  only  be  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  Scriptures,  but  also  with 


42  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

the  best  theological  writers.  His  own  de- 
nominational literature  should  be  thoroughly 
studied  and  well  understood.  In  the  midst 
of  so  much  confusion  and  discord  as  prevail 
in  the  Christian  world,  it  is  almost  a  matter 
of  necessity  that  every  intelligent  Christian 
man  should  "  be  ready  to  give  a  reason  for 
the  hope  that  is  in  him  with  meekness  and 
fear.'' 

The  means  of  attaining  this  knowledge  arc 
abundant,  and  well  adapted  to  the  purpose. 
The  Sabbath  school  is  the  commencement  of 
the  process.  The  preaching  of  the  gospel 
carries  forward  the  learner  in  his  inquiries. 
Then  there  is  an  indefinite  number  and  va- 
riety of  books  devoted  to  the  discussion  of 
both  the  doctrinal  and  practical  points  of  the- 
ology, suited  to  all  classes  of  minds.  No  indi- 
vidual can  be  well  instructed  in  Christian 
doctrine,  without  much  reading  and  study. 
The  labour  will,  however,  be  abundantly 
compensated  in  the  results  which  will  fol- 
low. 

Having  now  given  you  a  brief  summary  of 
the  materials  which  constitute  the  furniture 
of  the  mind,  or  the  matter  of  knowledge — 
that  with  which  it  is  highly  desirable  and 
absolutely  necessary  you  should  have  a  con- 
siderable acquaintance,  if  you  would  be  men 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  43 

in  understanding — I  now  proceed  to  the  second 
general  division  of  my  theme. 

II.  To  intellectual  manhood,  practical  wis- 
dom is  necessary. 

By  practical  wisdom,  I  mean  the  power  of 
applying  and  appropriating  the  elements  of 
knowledge,  or  the  facts  and  principles  stored 
up  in  the  mind.  The  process  involves  reflec- 
tion, with  all  the  mental  operations  necessary 
to  processes  of  reasoning. 

Coleridge  says :  "  There  is  one  art,  of 
which  every  man  should  be  master — the  art 
of  reflection.  If  you  are  not  a  thinking  man, 
to  what  purpose  are  you  a  man  at  all  T^  And 
again, — "Let  it  not  be  forgotten,  that  the 
powers  of  the  understanding  and  the  intel- 
lectual graces  are  precious  gifts  of  God ;  and 
that  every  Christian,  according  to  the  oppor- 
tunities vouchsafed  to  him,  is  bound  to  culti- 
vate the  one  and  to  acquire  the  other." 

The  mind  may  be  ever  so  richly  stored  with 
facts,  but  unless  it  has  the  power  of  using 
them  they  are  of  no  avail.  They  would  be 
like  undiscovered  treasures  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  or  like  the  talent  hid  in  the  earth 
in  a  napkin.  There  are  men  Avho  have  a 
vast  amount  of  knowledge,  but  no  qualifica- 
tions for  active  service  in  any  department  of 
social  life.     The  facts  which  they  have  learn- 


44  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

ed,  perhaps  at  great  expense  of  money  and 
labour,  are  like  useless  lumber  stoAved  away 
in  a  garret.  They  have  science,  but  they  are 
not  able  to  reason ;  they  have  almost  bound- 
less knowledge,  but  it  tells  not  upon  the  inter- 
ests of  society. 

Reasoning  consists  of  generalization,  analy- 
sis, comparison,  and  judgment.  The  power 
of  carrying  forward  a  process  of  reasoning 
depends  upon  the  power  of  attention,  reflec- 
tion, philosophical  associations,  mental  ab- 
straction, and  what  may  be  called  mental  te- 
nacity, or  a  power  of  following  out  our  mental 
processes  through  a  series  of  propositions, 
tracing  the  relations,  both  near  and  remote, 
of  all  the  steps  of  the  process,  from  axioms 
or  first  principles,  to  the  most  distant  con- 
clusions. To  treat  the  subject  a  little  more 
practically,  the  following  general  rules  will 
be  found  important,  and,  if  followed,  will 
secure  the  end  I  have  in  view — the  attainment 
of  a  power  and  facility  in  reasoning,  which 
will  place  you  among  men  of  mature  and 
elevated  intelligence. 

1.  Let  your  object  be  truth.  No  man  has 
any  sufficient  motive  for  being  in  the  wTong. 
Truth  is  an  attribute  of  God.  Christ  says . 
"  I  am  the  truth.''  As  a  principle  in  morals, 
it  stands  among  the  first.     It  is  the  end  of 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  45 

divine  revelation,  and  the  means  of  human 
elevation.  Every  one,  like  Pilate,  should 
ask,  "What  is  truth ?^^  but,  unlike  him, 
should  be  ready  to  follow  its  decisions  with- 
out fear  or  favour.  The  devil  is  a  liar,  and 
the  father  of  lies;  and  those  who  would  be 
like  him  should  disregard  the  truth. 

2.  In  all  your  inquiries  and  discussions,  en- 
deavour to  have  a  clear  and  correct  view  of 
the  question  under  consideration.  Without 
this,  you  will  labour  in  vain  to  convince 
others.  A  thousand  wordy  wars  have  been 
waged,  and  long  prosecuted,  w^hen,  if  the 
combatants  had  only  understood  the  real 
question  at  issue,  it  would  have  been  evident 
that  there  was  nothing  to  contend  about. 

3.  Avoid  fallacious  reasoning.  A  great 
philosopher  says,  "  Truth  never  was  indebted 
to  a  lie.^^  If  the  truth  cannot  be  sustained 
by  fair  means,  let  it  go.  This,  however,  is 
not  the  case.  The  arts  of  sophistry  are  never 
necessary  in  a  good  cause  ;  and  a  point  gained 
by  such  means  might  better  have  been  lost. 
It  is  much  better  that  a  truth  should  be  dis- 
paraged for  a  time  than  that  the  minds  of 
men  should  be  warped  by  the  arts  of  false 
reasoning.  Sophistical  reasoning  also  does 
immense  injury  to  the  person  who  employs  it, 
— lessening    his    reverence    for    truth,    and 


46  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

diminishing  liis  power  of  legitimate  processes 
of  reasoning. 

Hence,  avoid  the  use  of  equivocal  terms 
when  it  is  possible ;  and  when  it  is  not,  ex- 
plain the  sense  in  which  you  employ  them. 
Neglect  this  rule,  and  you  will  find  you  are 
often  disputing  about  words.  Not  unfre- 
quently  the  most  bitter  controversies  are  car- 
ried on  for  a  long  time,  when  the  whole 
quarrel  grows  out  of  the  use  of  several 
equivocal  terms,  to  which  one  party  attributes 
one  sense,  and  the  other  another. 

4.  Never  contend  merely  for  victory.  The 
object  is  too  trivial  for  an  immortal  and 
responsible  being.  Whether  I  am  a  more 
skilful  disputant  than  another  man,  is  a  mat- 
ter of  small  consequence.  The  interests  of 
truth  can  have  no  concern  whatever  with  that 
question.  Besides,  it  might  be  dangerous  to 
succeed  in  making  the  worse  appear  the  better 
reason.  It  might  pervert  weak  minds,  and 
certainly  it  would  not  help  to  improve  your 
own.  I  once  knew  a  strong  man  take  what 
he  considered  the  wrong  side  in  a  debate,  and 
handle  the  argument  so  skilfully  as  to  defeat 
his  opponents,  and  finally  convert  himself.  If 
he  were  right  at  first,  his  victory  was  an  evil 
that  probably  was  never  remedied. 

5.  Give  the  reasons  of  an  opponent  all  due 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  47 

consideration — look  at  tliem  in  their  strong- 
est light.  It  is  shameful  for  a  disputant  to 
set  himself  at  work,  in  the  first  place,  to  mis- 
represent an  opponent — misstate  his  argu- 
ment, and  then  proceed  to  demolish  it.  This 
is  setting  up  a  man  of  straw,  and  shooting 
at  it.  Such  a  course  always  spoils  a  cause. 
Intelligent  ohservers  will  naturally  infer  that 
you  are  in  the  wrong,  when  you  adopt  this 
course :  for  it  is  natural  to  conclude,  when 
an  argument  is  first  misstated  and  perverted, 
and  then  answered,  that  it  cannot  be  answered 
by  fair  means. 

Most  of  the  discussions  of  our  times,  particu- 
larly those  which  are  of  a  political  nature,  are 
marked  by  the  most  flagrant  violation  of  some, 
or  all,  of  these  rules.  Our  political  scribblers 
are  mere  gladiators,  contending  for  victory. 
The  one  who  can  throw  the  most  dust  is  the 
best  fellow.  Not  truth,  but  victory  and  the 
spoils,  are  the  objects  they  have  in  view ;  and 
the  means  they  employ  are  worthy  of  the  cause 
in  which  they  are  engaged,  and  answer  to  the 
end  they  propose  to  accomplish. 

Many  of  the  religious  controversies  which 
have  disturbed  the  harmony  of  the  Churches, 
are  sadly  marred  by  the  same  neglect  of  the 
legitimate  rules  of  fair  reasoning.  Confine 
polemics  to  the  mode  of  discussion  which  is 


48  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

here  contended  for,  and  religious  wars  would 
be  "  few  and  far  between.'^  All  tlie  religious 
controversies  would  be  confined  to  fundamen- 
tals. The  questions  would  concern  the  truth 
of  the  great  foundation  principles  of  Christian- 
ity ;  the  war  would  not  be  between  one  ortho- 
dox Christian  and  another,  but  between  Chris- 
tianity and  infidelity,  and  between  orthodoxy 
and  heresy.  Argumentation  between  ortho- 
dox Christians  would  be  mutually  instructive, 
and  would  lead  to  a  nearer  approximation  of 
different  denominations  of  Christians,  and  not 
to  a  wider  separation. 

The  above  rules  of  reasoning  apply  to  cases 
where  mind  is  in  contact  with  mind,  and  are 
designed  to  regulate  the  conduct  of  the  parties 
in  a  debate,  or  the  discussion  of  questions  about 
which  there  are  differences  of  opinion.  Prac- 
tical wisdom  not  only  covers  all  such  cases,  but 
also  all  questions  which  we  are  to  settle  for 
ourselves  and  upon  our  own  reflections,  in  which 
we  may  or  may  not  be  principally  concerned, 
but  which  are  settled  by  ourselves  and  not  by 
associated  bodies  or  the  public  at  large.  Such 
are  all  matters  which  relate  to  our  private 
business,  and  rest  upon  our  own  responsibility. 
Such  are  all  questions  of  mere  expediency  and 
of  policy.  Such  are  all  matters  of  mere  taste 
and  fitness — questions  as  to  the  best  method 


INTELLECTUAL   MANHOOD.  49 

of  doing  tilings.  A  sound  discretion — the 
power  of  coming  to  decisions  in  such  matters 
that  we  shall  not  find  occasion  to  regret  or  re- 
tract, and  which  men  of  sense  will  approve — is 
practical  wisdom. 

The  power  to  bring  from  a  well-stored  mind 
facts  and  principles  applicable  to  all  occasions 
and  emergencies,  characterizes  the  manly  in- 
telligence, which  is  the  point  at  which  you  are 
to  aim.  You  must  be  able  to  act  wisely  and 
to  converse  intelligently  on  all  occasions.  To 
this  will  be  necessary  a  fund  of  knowledge 
and  a  tact  for  bringing  it  into  use.  This  is  to 
be  men  in  understanding. 

How  necessary  this  intellectual  manhood  is 
to  a  manly  character,  I  need  not  attempt  to 
show.  No  one  need  despair  of  reaching  the 
high  intellectual  eminence  here  insisted  upon. 

"  The  very  heights  in  social  and  commer- 
cial life  are  accessible  to  all,  from  whatever 
low  level  they  commence  the  ascent.  The 
grandfather  of  the  late  Sir  Eobert  Peel  was, 
at  one  time,  a  journeyman  cotton-spinner. 
He  that  laid  the  foundation  of  the  greatness 
and  wealth  of  the  Arkwright  family,  was  a 
barber.  Carey,  one  of  the  greatest  linguists 
and  missionaries  of  modern  times,  was  a  cob- 
bler. Stephenson,  the  great  engineer  and  first 
constructer   of    railways,    was   a    vender    of 


50  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

matches.  No  one  knows  what  openings  God 
may  set  before  him  in  life  ;  and  should  he  not 
he  prepared  to  take  advantage  of  them? 
Yes;  this  very  preparation,  in  many  cases, 
makes  the  opening.^' — James, 
'  The  time  when  mere  ignoramuses  can  pass 
themselves  off  as  men  has  passed  away.  It  is 
becoming  more  and  more  difficult  for  a  young 
man  to  take  a  fair  position  in  society,  and  suc- 
ceed in  any  department  of  business,  without  a 
capability  of  drawing  upon  the  stores  of  a  well- 
furnished  mind  as  need  requires.  Times  are 
changing ;  the  race  is  improving ;  the  masses 
are  rising ;  education  and  general  intelligence 
are  affecting  the  whole  population.  Ignorance 
of  men  and  things,  of  practical  philosophy,  of 
the  history  of  the  world,  of  the  doctrines  and 
forms  of  religion,  and  of  current  events,  is 
now  positively  disgraceful,  and  is  reason  enough 
why  any  young  man  of  ordinary  opportunities 
can  have  no  honourable  place  in  good  society, 
and  have  little  or  no  influence. 

That  great  philosopher,  John  Locke,  re- 
marks :  "  How  men,  whose  plentiful  fortunes 
allow  them  leisure  to  improve  their  under- 
standings, can  satisfy  themselves  with  a  lazy 
ignorance,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  methinks  they 
have  a  low  opinion  of  their  souls,  who  lay  out 
all  their  income  in  provision  for  the  body  and 


INTELLECTUAL   MANHOOD.  51 

employ  none  of  it  to  procure  the  means  and 
helps  of  knowledge — who  take  great  care  to 
appear  always  in  a  neat  and  splendid  article, 
and  would  think  themselves  miserable  in  coarse 
clothes  or  a  patched  coat,  and  yet  contentedly 
suffer  their  minds  to  appear  abroad  in  a  pie- 
bald livery  of  coarse  patches  and  borrowed 
shreds,  such  as  it  has  pleased  chance  or  their 
country  tailor — I  mean  the  common  opinion 
of  those  they  have  conversed  with — to  clothe 
them  in.  I  will  not  mention  how  unreason- 
able this  is  for  men  that  ever  think  of  a  future 
state,  and  their  concernment  in  it,  which  no 
rational  man  can  avoid  to  do  sometimes.^' 

Again  he  says :  ''  There  is  a  certain  season 
when  our  minds  may  be  enlarged  ;  when  a  vast 
stock  of  useful  truths  may  be  acquired  ;  when 
our  passions  will  readily  submit  to  the  govern- 
ment of  reason  ;  when  right  principles  may  be 
so  fixed  in  us,  as  to  influence  every  important 
action  of  our  future  lives :  but  the  season  for 
this  extends  neither  to  the  w^hole,  nor  to  any 
considerable  length  of  our  continuance  upon 
earth  ;  it  is  limited  to  a  few  years  of  our  term ; 
and  if  throughout  these  we  neglect  it,  error  or 
ignorance  is,  according  to  the  ordinary  course 
of  things,  entailed  upon  us.  Our  will  becomes 
our  law ;  our  lusts  gain  a  strength,  which  we 
afterwards  vainly  oppose :  wrong  inclinations 


52  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

become  so  confirmed  in  us,  that  they  defeat  all 
our  endeavours  to  correct  them/' 

Would  you  be  a  man  for  the  times,  bestir 
yourself;  look  about  you,  and  see  how  much 
there  is  to  be  learned  before  you  are  prepared 
to  take  a  part  in  the  grand  strife  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  "  Knowledge  is  power/'  The 
father  of  the  experimental  philosophy  never 
uttered  a  greater  truth.  Would  you  have 
power  to  accumulate  or  to  appropriate — power 
to  get  good  or  to  do  good — acquire  knowledge. 
**  In  understanding  be  ye  men.'' 

Would  you  seek  refined  and  elevated  pleas- 
ure, cultivate  your  understanding.  "What," 
says  the  great  Koman  philosopher  and  orator, 
Cicero,  "  are  the  pleasures  of  a  luxurious  table, 
of  games,  of  shows,  of  sensuality,  when  com- 
pared with  those  resulting  from  the  study  of 
letters  ? — a  study  which,  in  men  of  sense  and 
good  education,  still  increases  in  charms  with 
their  years.  Whence  that  fine  saying  of 
Solon,  that  he  grew  old,  still  every  day  learn- 
ing something  new.  Certainly  no  enjoyment 
can  surpass  this  pleasure  of  the  mind." — De 
Senect 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  53 


IIL-INTELLECTUAL  MMHOOD-CONTmUED. 

THE     IMAGINATION. 

"  FOR  THE  LORD  SEARCHETH  ALL  HEARTS,  AND  UNDERSTANDETH 
ALL  THE  IMAGINATIONS  OF  THE  THOUGHTS. — 0  LORD  GOI>  OF 
ABRAHAM,  ISAAC,  AND  OF  ISRAEL,  KEEP  THIS  FOREVER  IS  THE 
IMAGINATION  OF  THE  THOUGHTS  OF  THE  HEART  OF  THY  PEO- 
PLE,   AND  PREPARE    THEIR    HEART  UNTO    THEE." — 1   CHRON. 

xxvin,  9  ;  XXIX,  18. 

The  imagination  constitutes  so  important  a 
portion  of  our  mental  states,  that  I  have  thought 
best  to  give  it  separate  consideration.  The 
state  of  mind  or  power  called  imagination,  is 
the  power  which  the  mind  possesses  of  group- 
ing its  conceptions  in  new  relations,  or  of 
originating  new  accidents  of  existing  things. 
Pictures  of  the  imagination,  by  authors  upon 
the  subject,  are  presumed  to  be  above  nature. 
For  instance :  "  A  painter,  bj  this  process,  de- 
picts a  landscape,  combining  the  beauties  of 
various  real  landscapes,  and  excluding  their 
defects.  A  poet  or  a  novelist,  in  the  same 
manner,  calls  into  being  a  fictitious  character, 
endowed  with  those  qualities  with  which  it  suits 
his  purpose  to  invest  him,  places  him  in  con- 
tact with  others  equally  imaginary,  and  ar- 
ranges, according  to  his  will,  the  scenes  in 
which  he  shall  bear  a  part  and  the  line  of  con- 


54  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

duct  lie  shall  follow.  The  compound,  in  these 
eases,  is  entirely  fictitious  and  arbitrary ;  but 
it  is  expected  that  the  individual  elements  shall 
be  such  as  actually  occur  in  nature,  and  that 
the  combination  shall  not  differ  remarkably 
from  what  might  really  happen.^^ — Abercroni- 
hie.  An  example  of  this  is  seen  in  Milton's 
description  of  the  garden  of  Eden. 

"1.  It  is  the  activity  of  the  mind  which, 
with  ease  and  freedom,  unites  different  images 
or  creates  new  ones,  having  been  furnished 
with  the  materials  for  them  by  sensation  and 
conception.  Such  images  of  imagination  are 
those  of  Amazons,  Cyclops,  sirens,  fairies, 
elves,  giants,  and  dwarfs.  These  images  can- 
not be  seen  in  nature ;  they  are,  therefore,  in 
one  respect,  new,  and  yet  the  parts  of  which 
they  consist  are  furnished  by  sensation  and 
perception,  and  consequently  met  with  out 
of  us. 

"  2.  Imagination  is  the  power  to  call  forth 
images  for  the  purpose  of  clothing  an  idea  or 
thought  which  arises  in  the  mind.  The  images 
thus  called  forth  may  be  variously  modified  to 
render  them  appropriate  vehicles  of  thought. 
This  no  one  will  dispute  who  is  aware  that,  as 
the  mind  constantly  grows  in  cultivation,  its 
conceptions  must  likewise  become  more  correct, 
so  that  as  often  as  they  are  reproduced,  they 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  55 

will  bear  the  impress  of  the  mind's  improve- 
ment. Imagination  then,  is  the  power  which 
modifies  the  images  once  received,  creates  new 
ones  of  them,  and  gives  them  contents  which  do 
not  originally  hehng  to  them. 

"  Some  examples  will  show  this  more  satis- 
factorily. I  think  of  strength ;  my  imagina- 
tion, being  lively,  seeks  for  an  image  by  which 
to  express  it ;  it  takes  the  image  of  the  lion, 
places  its  thought  in  it,  and  thus  the  lion  be- 
comes the  symbol  of  strength.  Again,  the 
idea  that  man,  if  left  to  himself,  is  without 
any  knowledge  of  heavenly  things,  and  cannot 
speak  concerning  them,  is  a  thought  produced 
by  reflection.  This  thought  imagination  de- 
sires to  represent  in  an  external  form.  It 
therefore  creates  an  image  to  which  it  gives  it 
as  its  contents.  The  Egyptian  statue  of  Mem- 
non  was  the  symbol  thus  created.  It  was  made 
of  marble,  its  fac^  turned  towards  the  rising 
sun,  and  it  gave  forth  lovely  sounds  when  the 
first  rays  fell  upon  it.  So  man  is  mute  and 
dead  till  heavenly  light  awakens  him.  Guido 
represents  a  pious  and  beautiful  virgin  sitting 
alone  at  her  needle;  two  angels  attend  her. 
What  does  this  mean?  Innocence  and  dili- 
gence are  honoured  by  heavenly  spirits. 

"  The  contents  placed  in  an  image  may  be 
a  number  or  cluster  of  thoughts,  and  then,  in- 


66  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

stead  of  one,  we  must  have  many  images. 
When  connected  it  is  called  an  allegory.  The 
thought  that  man  consists  of  soul  and  hody,  is 
connected  with  the  idea  that  whatever  he  is 
in  regard  to  intellect,  he  is  by  having  freed 
himself  from  his  animal  passions.  The  Egyp- 
tian sphinx  is  an  allegorical  representation  of 
this ;  in  it  the  head  of  a  woman  grows  forth 
and  rests  on  a  hody  composed  of  parts  of  dif- 
ferent animals  mingled  with  each  other.  This 
means  that  humanity,  here  represented  by  a 
woman,  must,  by  its  own  power,  emerge  from 
the  dominion  of  animal  desires.  Or  Eros,  love, 
sitting  upon  a  lion,  strength,  and  guiding  him 
with  a  silken  cord,  moderation,  shows  that  love 
softens  the  strongest.  Cerberus,  with  three 
heads,  and  Argus,  with  a  hundred  eyes,  ex- 
press the  ideas  that  watchfulness  must  look 
in  every  direction.  The  centaur  is  a  symbol 
of  prudence,  swiftness,  and  considerateness. 

"  From  this  it  must  sufficiently  appear  that 
imagination,  as  the  basis  of  arts,  creates  an 
unreal  but  powerful  and  beautiful  world.  By 
it  all  objects  and  images  receive  ideal  subsis- 
tence, and  there  is  nothing  too  good  to  become 
the  receptacle  in  which  imagination  may  place 
the  contents  of  the  mind.  While  the  man  of 
business  sees  nothing  in  spring  but  flowers  and 
hills,  the  eye  of  imagination  perceives  in  the 


INTELLECTUAL  MANIIOOB.  57 

flowers  and  ornamented  hills  the  connubial 
garlands  of  spring;  when  the  former  hears 
nothing  but  the  noise  of  a  running  brook, 
imagination  hears  the  murmuring  waters  ex- 
press their  joy  that  they  are  no  longer  chained 
by  the  ice,  but  have  been  freed  by  spring,  to 
which  they  sing  their  song.^' — Psychology,  hy 
Rev,  jP.  a.  Ranch 

The  sense  of  the  Hebrew  word  rendered 
imagination,  is  in  striking  conformity  with  the 
scholastic  definition.  According  to  Gesenius, 
the  Hebrew  word,  rendered  imagination,  is 
figuratively  used  for  "  what  is  formed  in  the 
mind^^ — that  is,  a  creation  of  the  mind.  The 
work  of  the  mind  in  this  case  does  not  consist 
in  originating  the  materials  of  the  conception, 
but  in  forming  or  creating  the  arrangement 
and  relations  of  those  materials.  The  thing 
created  **  in  the  mind^'  is  wholly  ideal, 
having  no  existence  in  the  world  of  realities. 
This  definition  has  its  most  apt  illustra- 
tions in  the  creations  of  poets  and  novel- 
ists. Verbal  addresses  clothed  in  the  lan- 
guage of  trope  and  metaphor,  and  calculated 
to  excite  strong  emotions,  furnish  another  in- 
stance of  the  same  class. 

Efforts  of  imagination  of  this  class,  have 
for  their  object  gratification  or  pleasure,  more 
than  instruction.     The  object  is  to  produce 


58  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

pleasurable  emotions.  Most  persons  seek  ex- 
citement, and  pursue  their  own  personal  grati- 
fication ;  and  hence  the  position  which  works 
of  imagination  have  in  the  public  mind,  and 
the  interest  with  which  imaginative  speakers 
are  sought  after.  It  is  the  book  that  makes 
you  weep  or  laugh  ;  and  the  orator  that  stirs 
up  the  soul,  and  fills  it  with  emotion,  by  the 
means  of  novel  and  unexpected  associations, 
that  are  sought  after  by  the  masses. 

The  power  of  forming  combinations  calcu- 
lated to  produce  deep  feeling,  and  to  awaken 
the  soul  to  high  resolves  and  deeds  of  noble 
daring,  constitutes  a  great  genius.  The  power 
of  invention,  consisting  in  the  exercise  of  the 
imagination,  is  applied  to  the  investigations 
of  science.  It  has  much  to  do  in  the  mathe- 
matics, and  has  been  employed  in  contriving 
experiments,  and  in  the  construction  of  theo- 
ries, which  have  led  to  the  most  important 
discoveries.  Such  theories  have  often  been 
founded  in  true  philosophy,  and  have  stood 
the  test  of  experiments  ;  but  they  have  not 
unfrequently  been  wholly  baseless,  and  have 
led  their  advocates  into  the  wildest  vagaries. 
The  old  alchemists  held,  that  all  metals  were 
mere  compounds,  the  baser  of  them  contain- 
ing the  same  constituents  as  gold ;  and  that 
by  removing  their  impurities,  they  might  be 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  59 

made  to  assume  the  properties  and  value  of 
that  precious  metal.  The  change,  they  sup- 
posed, could  be  effected  by  what  was  termed 
lapis  philosophorum,  or  the  philosopher's  stone. 
The  hypothesis  of  the  alchemists  was  base- 
less— the  philosopher's  stone  wholly  imagin- 
ary ;  and  so  far  as  their  specific  object  was 
concerned,  all  the  experiments  of  this  class 
of  fictitionists  proved  failures.  A  multitude 
of  harebrained  theorists,  very  much  like  the 
ancient  sect  of  philosophers  here  referred  to, 
liave  figured  in  every  age  of  the  world,  and 
our  own  times  are  not  without  them. 

The  imagination  is  a  very  important  func- 
tion of  the  mind.  It  is  concerned  in  all  pro- 
cesses of  reasoning.  It  involves  the  power  of  i 
relative  suggestion  and  association,  which  are 
essential  constituents  in  all  reasoning.  With- 
out imagination,  the  mind  would  simply  at- 
tend to  facts  as  they  present  themselves  to 
the  senses  or  the  understanding,  without  con- 
sidering their  relations  and  connexions.  Per- 
sons who  are  deficient  in  imagination,  are 
usually  denominated  matter-of-fact  men.  They 
never  hazard  an  experiment ;  they  are  de- 
ficient in  enterprise ;  they  make  no  improve- 
ments upon  existing  theories,  or  the  modes 
of  pursuing  the  ends  of  life.  They  stand  pre- 
cisely where  stood  their  sires  and  their  grand- 


60  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

sires  in  times  past.  If  all  men  had  been 
like  tliem,  the  great  improvements  of  this 
wonderful  age  would  never  have  existed.  We 
should  have  been  without  the  steam-engine, 
the  spinning-jenny,  the  magnetic  telegraph, 
and  a  thousand  other  facilities  for  the  progress  * 
of  the  world. 

Vigour  of  reasoning,  quickness  of  percep- 
tion, and"  what  may  be  called  a  practical 
character,  depend  upon  a  vigorous  imagination. 
That  which  stimulates  the  mind  to  activity, 
and  hastens  it  on  in  its  processes  of  connecting 
causes  and  effects,  antecedents  and  sequents, 
and  enables  it  to  bring  together  the  more 
distant  relations,  must  certainly  be  a  highly 
>  important  element  in  all  processes  of  reason- 
ing, and  should  have  special  attention  in  sys- 
tems of  education.  The  effectiveness  of  the 
reasoning  powers  will  much  depend  upon  an 
early  and  proper  training  of  the  imagination. 

Where  there  is  a  natural  or  constitutional 
deficiency  in  the  power  of  imagination,  it 
may  be  greatly  aided  by  suitable  excitement. 
Eeading  the  poets — Homer,  Yirgil,  Milton, 
Cowper,  Pollok,  and  others  similar  in  their 
character — will  be  found  extremely  useful  to 
this  end.  Such  minds  want  the  guidance  of 
wise  counsellors,  who  understand  their  neces- 
sities, and  are  qualified  to  give  them  timely 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  61 

and  effective  aid.  Without  the  proper  aid, 
their  improvement  will  be  sIoav,  and  it  will 
be  a  wonder  if  they  are  no  better  than  blanks 
in  the  world  to  the  end  of  life. 

The  sympathies  of  the  human  heart,  upon 
which  so  much  depends  in  our  intercourse 
with  society,  depend  much  upon  the  imagina- 
tion. Properly  to  feel  sympathy  for  the  suf-^ 
fering,  we  must  put  ourselves  into  their 
circumstances,  or  imagine  ourselves  to  be 
similarly  situated.  We  must  make  their 
troubles  our  own  ;  their  anguish  of  spirit  must 
be  transferred  to  our  own  souls.  Then  we 
shall  know  what  it  is  to  love  another  as  we 
love  ourselves.  We  shall  sympathize  with 
the  mass,  and  bear  the  burdens  of  our  breth- 
ren who  groan  under  the  chastening  rod  of 
the  Almighty.  The  more  fully  Ave  can  con- 
ceive a  transfer  of  circumstances  with  the 
afflicted,  the  more  lively  will  be  our  sympa- 
thy, and  the  more  prompt  and  effective  our 
interference  for  their  relief. 

A  great  amount  of  our  happiness  arises  from 
the  imagination.  The  strength  of  faith  and 
the  vividness  of  hope  are  much  assisted  by 
the  power  of  making  their  objects  real.  Eeal- 
izing  spiritual  things  is  simply  a  vivid  con- 
ception of  them.  "  Faith  is  the  substance  of 
things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not 


62  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

seen."  The  realization  of  the  things  which 
are  distant  and  not  seen,  in  this  case,  is  a 
lively  conception,  inspired  and  strengthened 
by  the  Spirit.  How  much  of  spiritual  enjoy- 
ment depends  upon  this,  I  need  not  now  say. 

The  same  is  true  of  all  those  natural  de- 
lights which  arise  from  hope,  in  relation  to 
our  worldly  prospects.  Be  these  hopes  ever 
so  well  founded,  it  is  the  work  of  the  imagina- 
tion to  make  the  objects  of  them  a  present 
reality,  and  to  make  them  a  source  of  pleas- 
ure. AVithout  hope,  the  stimulus  to  exer- 
tion is  wanting.  It  is  hope  that  keeps  the 
heart  whole.  The  man  of  business,  the  scholar, 
the  politician — indeed  all  classes  of  men — are 
influenced  by  hope  at  every  step,  and  without 
it  society  would  become  a  dead  mass.  An 
active,  well-regulated  imagination  derives  en- 
joyment from  the  future — looks  through  all 
time  to  come,  and  into  eternity,  with  bright 
hopes,  and  indulges  in  glorious  anticipations 
of  personal  bliss  and  the  elevation  of  the  race. 
The  brightest  visions  of  God^s  holy  prophets 
are  but  the  elevation  and  inspiration  of  the 
imagination  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  which  seems 
to  make  the  future  present,  and  imparts  to  it 
the  assurance  of  certainty. 

After  these  views  of  the  nature  and  import- 
ance of  the  imagination,  it  remains  that  some- 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  63 

thing  be  said  upon  its  morbid  state,  and  the 
manner  in  which  that  state  may  be  guarded 
against.  This  is  a  matter  of  great  practi- 
cal importance,  and  will  be  treated  at  some 
length. 

A  diseased  imagination  is  sometimes  the 
offspring  of  physical  causes,  and,  consequently, 
is  not  always  to  be  prevented  by  any  mode  or 
amount  of  mental  discipline.  In  a  healthy 
condition  of  the  physical  system,  the  functions 
of  the  imagination  become  disturbed  through 
excessive  excitement  or  over-action.  Some 
casts  of  mind  are  far  more  liable  to  diseases 
of  the  imagination  than  others.  Where  the 
sensitive  predominates  over  the  rational — 
where  there  is  a  stronger  susceptibility  of 
feeling  than  there  is  power  of  reasoning — any 
considerable  excitement  of  the  imagination  is 
likely  to  disturb  the  balance  of  the  mind, 
and  give  it  an  undue  preponderance.  Wlien 
that  preponderance  becomes  strong  and  de- 
cided, it  is  followed  by  certain  irregularities, 
which  are  denominated  diseased  action.  The 
phenomena  of  diseased  imagination  are  ex- 
ceedingly curious ;  and  for  your  instruction, 
and  not  merely  for  your  amusement,  I 
will  here  introduce  several  instances  of  the 
class : — 

"  Dr.  Gall   has  extracted    from  Fodere^s 


64  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

Memoir  of  M.  Savarj :  *  A  carpenter,  forty- 
seven  years  old,  Avith  every  appearance  of  good 
health,  was  assailed  by  a  crowd  of  strange  and 
incoherent  ideas.  He  often  imagined  himself 
fluttering  in  the  air,  or  traversing  smiling 
fields,  apartments,  old  chateaus,  woods,  and 
gardens,  which  he  had  seen  in  his  infancy. 
Sometimes  he  seemed  to  be  walking  in  public 
courts,  places,  and  other  spots  that  were  known 
to  him.  While  at  work,  the  moment  he  was 
going  to  strike  his  axe  at  a  given  place,  an 
idea  would  pass  through  his  head,  make  him 
lose  sight  of  his  object,  and  he  would  strike 
somewhere  else.  He  once  rose  at  midnight 
to  go  to  Versailles,  and  found  himself  there 
without  being  sensible  of  having  made  this 
journey.  None  of  these  hallucinations  pre- 
vent the  patient  from  reasoning  correctly. 
He  is  astonished,  and  laughs  at  himself  for 
all  these  fantastic  visions,  but  still  is  un- 
able to  withdraw  himself  from  their  influ- 
ence.' '^ 

Madam  de  Stael  gives  us  the  following 
curious  account  of  Kousseau,  the  great  infidel 
philosopher : — "  Sometimes  he  would  part  with 
you  with  all  his  former  affection  ;  but,  if  an 
expression  had  escaped  you  which  might  bear 
an  unfavourable  construction,  he  would  recol- 
lect  it,  examine   it,  exaggerate  it,   perhaps 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  65 

dwell  upon  it  for  a  month,  and  conclude  by  a 
total  breach  with  you.  Hence  it  was  that 
there  was  scarce  a  possibility  of  undeceiving 
him ;  for  the  light  which  broke  in  upon  him 
at  once  was  not  sufficient  to  efface  the  wrono* 
impressions  which  had  taken  place  so  gradu- 
ally in  his  mind.  It  was  extremely  difficult, 
too,  to  continue  long  on  an  intimate  footing 
with  him.  A  word,  a  gesture,  furnished  him 
with  matter  of  profound  meditation ;  he  con- 
nected the  most  trifling  circumstances  like  so 
many  mathematical  propositions,  and  con- 
ceived his  conclusions  to  be  supported  by  the 
evidence  of  demonstration. 

"  I  believe  (she  further  remarks)  that  im- 
agination was  the  strongest  of  his  faculties, 
and  that  it  had  almost  absorbed  all  the  rest. 
He  dreamed  rather  than  existed,  and  the 
events  of  his  life  might  be  said  more  properly 
to  have  passed  in  his  mind  than  without  him 
— a  mode  of  being,  one  should  have  thouglit, 
that  ought  to  have  secured  him  from  distrust, 
as  it  prevented  him  from  observation  ;  but 
the  truth  was,  it  did  not  hinder  him  from 
attempting  to  observe — it  only  rendered  his 
observations  erroneous.  That  his  soul  was 
tender,  no  one  can  doubt  after  having  read 
his  works ;  but  his  imagination  sometimes 
interposed  between  his  reason  and  hiji  affec- 


66  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

tions,  and  destroyed  their  influence:  lie  ap- 
peared sometimes  void  of  sensibility,  but  it 
was  because  he  did  not  perceive  objects  such 
as  they  were.  Had  he  seen  them  with  our 
eyes,  his  heart  would  have  been  more  affected 
than  ours.'' — Upham's  Disordered  Mental  Ac- 
tion. 

Dean  Swift  tells  us  of  "  a  gentleman  of 
his  acquaintance,  who  was  ill-used  by  a  mercer 
in  town,"  and  who  "  wrote  him  a  letter,  in  an 
unknown  hand,  to  give  him  notice  that  care 
had  been  taken  to  convey  a  slow  poison  into 
his  drink,  which  would  infallibly  kill  him  in 
a  month ;  after  which  the  man  began  in 
earnest  to  languish  and  decay,  by  the  mere 
strength  of  imagination,  and  would  certainly 
have  died,  if  care  had  not  been  taken  to  unde- 
ceive him  before  the  jest  went  too  far.'' 

M.  Chabanon  says  : — "  Twice,  when  listening 
to  the  notes  of  the  organ,  or  to  sacred  music, 
have  I  thought  myself  transported  into  heav- 
en ;  and  this  vision  had  something  so  real  in 
it,  and  I  was  so  carried  out  of  myself  while  it 
lasted,  that  the  actual  presence  of  the  objects 
could  not  have  had  upon  me  a  stronger  effect." 
— Philosophy  of  Magic,  vol.  ii,  p.  73. 

I  have  known  many  curious  instances  of  the 
same  class,  one  or  two  of  which  may  be  ad- 
missible in  this  place.     At  one  of  my  appoint- 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  67 

ments,  more  than  thirty  years  since,  there 
was  a  great  awakening  among  the  people. 
A  wicked  young  man,  who  was  engaged  in 
making  shingles,  some  six  miles  from  the 
settlement,  in  a  dense  pine  wood,  saw  the 
Devil,  with  his  cloven  foot,  fiery  eyes,  and 
barbed  tail !  The  old  dragon  came  into  his 
shanty  in  the  night,  and  conducted  himself 
after  such  a  sort  that  the  poor  solitary  occu- 
pant was  well-nigh  frightened  out  of  his  wits. 
The  fright  was  succeeded  by  penitence,  and 
penitence  by  a  sound  conversion. 

Not  long  after,  one  of  the  companions  of 
this  young  man,  after  being  out  late  at  night 
gambling,  having  retired  to  bed,  was  visited 
by  the  same  terrible  figure,  who  brandished 
around  the  room  his  pitchfork,  and  then 
pulled  the  cards  from  his  hat,  where  they 
lay  rolled  up  in  a  silk  handkerchief,  and 
scattered  them  over  the  floor.  He,  too,  was 
frightened  into  seriousness,  and  told  me  the 
story. 

A  short  time  after  this  I  visited  the  place, 
and  after  I  had  retired  to  bed,  late  in  the 
evening,  I  was  hastily  sent  for  to  visit  a 
woman  who  had  also  seen  the  old  Wicked  07ie, 
When  I  entered  the  room  I  found  her  in  a 
great  fright,  trembling  and  screeching,  and 
clinging  to  her  husband,  as  if  she  expected 


68  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

every  moment  to  be  dragged  away  to  her 
account.  I  prayed  with  her,  and  tried  to 
quiet  her  mind,  but  to  very  little  purpose. 
She  imagined  she  saw  a  huge  black  figure 
come  down  the  chimney,  and  gaze  at  her  with 
his  fiery  eyes,  and  whichever  way  she  turned 
he  seemed  to  be  before  her. 

The  first  was  a  case  of  sound  conversion, 
and  was,  according  to  my  views,  none  the  less 
an  instance  of  a  vision  of  the  imagination. 
The  other  two  soon  recovered  themselves,  and 
became  as  careless  as  ever.  The  report  of  the 
first  case  was  the  occasion  of  the  other  two — 
serving  as  the  means  of  exciting  their  imagi- 
nation, and  temporarily  both  of  overturning 
reason  and  deceiving  the  senses. 

In  the  explanation  I  give  of  these  singular 
facts,  I  by  no  means  would  cast  a  doubt  over 
the  existence  of  evil  spirits,  or  the  personal 
existence  of  the  great  arch-fiend — the  facts 
are  settled  in  the  Scriptures;  but  supposing 
Satan  a  reasoning  being,  and  seeing  no 
grounds  for  believing  that  he  would  so  ap- 
pear to  his  children  as  to  frighten  them  from 
his  service,  I  cannot  consider  these  as  in- 
stances of  his  real  personal  appearance.  The 
facts  are  capable  of  explanation  upon  the 
known  laws  of  mind ;  and  this  mode  of  ex- 
plaining what  transpires  is  always  to  be  pre- 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  69 

ferred  when  it  is  possible.  If,  as  I  suppose, 
they  were  the  result  of  an  excited  imagina- 
tion, then  they  are  specimens  of  the  power  of 
conscience,  through  the  fancy,  to  inflict  the 
most  fearful  torture.  How  came  these  per- 
sons liable  to  be  haunted  by  such  terrible 
visions,  if  it  were  not  true  that  they  had  deep 
convictions  of  having  provoked  the  divine  dis- 
pleasure, and  exposed  themselves  to  be  hur- 
ried away  to  the  place  "  prepared  for  the  Devil 
and  his  angels ?''  And  if  conscience  may  send 
such  a  light  through  the  soul  as  to  present  to 
the  mind  of  the  sinner  such  fearful  forms  of 
merited  vengeance,  while  he  lives  upon  earth, 
what  will  be  its  power  in  another  world,  when 
it  will  act  in  the  light  of  eternity?  Such 
alarms  as  this  inward  monitor  now  awakens 
in  the  sinner's  imagination,  are  the  mere 
shadows  of  the  realities  which  are  before  him. 
There  is  another  form  in  which  diseases  of 
the  imagination  are  developed,  which  has  its 
origin  in  physical  derangement.  This  form 
is  denominated  hypochondria.  There  are 
many  amusing  accounts  in  the  books,  of  the 
curious  freaks  of  the  imagination  under  the 
influence  of  this  disease  ;  but  we  will  mention 
one,  which  has  never  been  published.  An 
old  friend  of  ours,  at  intervals  was  awfully 
afflicted  with  this  malady.     As  he  was  re- 


70  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

turning  home,  on  a  certain  occasion,  all  at 
once  he  acquired,  as  he  supposed,  an  enor- 
mous size.  He  was  as  tall  as  the  trees,  and 
looked  down  from  this  great  elevation  upon 
the  top  of  his  own  house.  Now,  thought  he, 
I  must  live  the  rest  of  my  life  out  of  doors, 
for  I  cannot  get  into  the  house.  He  plodded 
his  way  along,  in  sad  case,  through  the  gate, 
and  out  came  his  little  grandson,  shouting, 
*' Here  comes  grandpa  !^^  and,  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye,  he  collapsed  into  his  natural 
dimensions. 

We  arrange  under  this  same  category  the 
phenomena  of  ghost-seeing,  second-sight,  and 
all  of  reality  there  is  in  the  wonderful  influ- 
ences of  mesmerism.  The  imagination  he- 
comes  heated  and  disordered,  and  hence  the 
strange  impressions,  revelations,  and  what 
not. 

The  ex2)lanation  of  these  phenomena  is 
this :  the  imagination  hecomes  more  active 
than  the  reason,  or  even  the  senses.  Hence, 
the  impressions  of  the  imagination  are  not 
corrected,  as  they  are,  when  in  hut  an  ordi- 
nary state  of  activity,  by  the  reason  and  the 
senses.  The  victim  of  this  disordered  state 
of  mind  is  sure  that  all  his  impressions  are 
true,  and  declares,  most  sincerely,  that  he 
sees  and  hears  what  really  has  no  existence ; 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  71 

and  the  ignorant  stare,  and  know  not  what  in 
the  world  to  make  of  it. 

The  imagination  often  controls  both  the 
will  and  muscular  motion.  Its  power  over 
the  nervous  system  is  most  marvellous.  I 
can,  however,  give  no  more  illustrations,  but 
must  leave  you  to  read  for  yourselves,  in 
works  on  psychology  and  mental  philosophy, 
whatever  may  be  necessary  to  a  complete 
view  of  the  subject. 

The  instances  given  above  clearly  belong 
to  the  head  of  diseased  imagination.  There 
is  another  class  of  cases,  somewhat  modified, 
of  equal  importance  in  a  practical  point  of 
view,  to  which  I  shall  now  call  your  atten- 
tion. They  are  cases  of  unduly  excited  imagi- 
nation. 

One  instance  of  this  class  is  that  of  an 
inequality  of  mind,  or  a  want  of  due  balance 
— an  exclusive  devotion  to  one  idea.  The 
men  of  this  class  mount  some  particular 
hobby,  and  ride  it  to  death — or,  rather,  ride 
it  till  they  kill  themselves.  In  their  imagina- 
tions, they  make  the  welfare  of  the  race,  and 
the  very  existence  of  society,  to  depend  upon 
their  favourite  scheme. 

Another  instance  of  this  class  may  be  de- 
nominated eastle-huilding.  Concocting  im- 
practicable schemes,  and  dreaming  over  them 


7^  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

night  and  day,  until  the  sober  realities  of  life 
become  utterly  insignificant,  and  the  mind  is 
only  in  its  element  while  in  the  midst  of  a 
world  of  pleasant  day-dreams  and  gorgeous 
pictures  of  wealth,  honour,  and  glory.  De- 
lightful fancies  dazzle  the  sight,  and  splendid 
fictions  crowd  the  brain,  a  series  of  splendid 
visions  pass  before  the  mind  and  excite  the 
sensibilities ;  this  is  thought  to  be  possible, 
that  probable,  and  the  other  quite  certain. 
Keason  is  dethroned,  and  soon  the  wretched 
dreamer  is  deemed  a  fair  candidate  for 
the  mad  house. 

Still  another  form  in  which  the  high  excite- 
ment and  undue  action  of  the  imagination  show 
themselves,  is  that  of  reckless  speculations,  A 
man  of  business  flourishes  for  a  while,  and 
seems  to  be  in  the  high  road  to  wealth;  a 
pressure  in  the  money  market  comes  on,  and 
he  fails  for  a  hundi'ed  thousand  dollars.  Some 
set  him  down  for  a  regular-built  scoundrel; 
while  those  who  are  alone  competent  to  judge 
in  the  case,  consider  him  a  victim  of  baseless 
calculations, — an  adventurous  genius, — one 
wliose  imagination  had  become  rampant,  and 
had  turned  reason  and  common-sense  out  of 
doors. 

When  the  imagination  is  excited  by  strong 
temptations  to  do  wrong,  the  moral  sense,  or 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  73 

conscience,  is  liable  to  be  undermined.  When 
conscience  becomes  blinded,  or  diseased,  by 
some  cause,  which  leads  the  imagination 
astray,  then  it  may  be  said  to  be  corrupted. 
It  is  probably  true  that  all  vicious  actions, 
which  are  deliberately  done,  are  first  acted 
over  in  the  imagination.  The  images  of  a  cer- 
tain species  of  wrong  take  possession  of  the 
imagination,  and  are  there  mixed  up  with  a 
thousand  sweets ;  the  bait  is  gilded,  and 
assumes  every  pleasant  hue ;  a  scene  is 
created  in  which  the  lights  are  placed  in 
bold  relief,  while  the  shades  are  far  in  the 
background,  scarcely  visible.  The  imagina- 
tion is  occupied  with  this  scene,  and  by  it 
excited  and  heated,  day  after  day,  and,  per- 
haps, for  years,  before  the  dreadful  result 
develops  itself. 

The  public  mind  is  often  shocked  by  in- 
stances of  outrageous  wickedness,  perpetrated 
by  individuals  of  considerable  respectability. 
Funds  are  embezzled,  virtue  is  assaulted,  or 
a  murder  is  committed,  by  some  one  not  sus- 
pected capable  of  any  such  outrages  upon 
morals.  If  the  history  of  the  mind  and 
heart  of  the  transgressor  could  be  read,  it 
would  be  seen  that  the  immediate  occasion  of 
the  ofiPence  merely  brought  out,  or  matured, 
what  had  been  a  thousand  times  enacted  in  the 


74  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

imagination.  The  real  fall  was  not  sudden, 
but  gradual,  having  its  incipient  stages  and 
its  growth  in  the  workings"  of  the  imagi- 
nation. 

I  once  read  the  confession  of  a  murderer 
which  was  something  like  this.  He  had  led  a 
rather  loose  life,  but  had  not  distinguished 
himself  for  any  flagrant  offence.  Unaccount- 
ably to  himself  he  was  seized  with  the  idea  of 
murder ;  the  idea  haunted  him  until  it  was 
invested  with  a  sort  of  charm.  It  finally  be- 
gat a  desire  to  do  the  deed,  but  it  was  long 
before  he  formed  the  fatal  purpose.  After 
some  years  of  cherishing  this  imagination, 
circumstances  transpired  which  furnished  oc- 
casion for  carrying  it  into  effect,  and  then  he 
committed  the  fatal  act.  Perhaps  all  the 
while  the  seed  of  death  was  vegetating  in  this 
man's  mind,  he  was  taken  for  anything  but  a 
murderer. 

I  have  no  idea  that  any  one  falls  all  at  once 
from  a  high  state  of  religion  or  virtue  to  the 
low  depths  of  iniquity.  There  may  indeed  be 
instances  of  sad  departure  from  the  rules  of 
rectitude,  under  the  influence  of  surprise;  but 
these  are  exceedingly  rare.  Most  of  the  terri- 
ble apostasies  from  religious  purity  and  from 
social  decency  are  long  in  reaching  maturity ; 
and  the  sin  by  which  disgrace  and  ruin  come, 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  75 

have  been  frequently  enacted  in  the  mind.  As 
this  is  the  most  unobserved  and  inscrutable  of 
all  the  departments  of  moral  character,  ifc  is 
the  first  point  to  be  assailed,  and  the  first  sur- 
rendered to  the  enemy. 

The  obvious  reflection  suggested  by  all  these 
instances  of  diseased,  heated,  and  vitiated  im- 
agination, is  that  it  is  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance, especially  for  a  young  man,  to  avoid  the 
causes  which  work  such  perversions  of  the 
soul ;  several  of  these  I  will  now  proceed  to 
notice. 

Bad  associations,  familiarity  with  scenes  of 
vice,  have  a  tendency  to  excite  and  corrupt  the 
heart.  The  images  of  such  scenes  will  remain 
in  the  mind  long  after  the  time  of  observing 
them,  and  will  furnish  materials  for  it  to  prey 
upon.  The  very  memory  of  them  is  danger- 
ous, but  their  constant  presence  in  the  imagi- 
nation is  certain  to  make  impressions  upon  the 
moral  feelings  which  will  be  more  or  less  in- 
jurious, and  which  may  break  over  all  the  bar- 
riers of  conscience. 

Corrupt  conversation — profane  or  obscene 
language — will  be  productive  of  the  same  evil 
influences  as  corrupting  scenes.  That  young 
man  who  listens  to  the  ribaldry  of  the  vulgar 
exposes  himself  to  the  influence  of  a  cause 
which  may  ultimately  plunge  him  into  the 


7G  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

mire.  Words,  like  things,  fasten  themselves 
npon  the  memory,  and  furnish  the  materials 
for  conceptions,  which,  by  the  laws  of  associa- 
tion, may  be  wrought  up  into  pictures,  and 
exercise  a  mighty  influence  over  the  char- 
acter. 

A  more  fruitful  source  of  undue  excitement 
and  corruption  is  bad  books.  Corrupt  litera- 
ture is  the  most  fruitful  source  of  mischief,  be- 
cause it  comes  into  contact  with  the  mind  in 
secret,  when  free  from  the  restraints  of  public 
sentiment  or  the  delicacy  which  influences  the 
mind  while  in  the  presence  of  society.  Its  im- 
pressions are  deeper  than  those  of  observation 
or  conversation,  because  they  may  be  held 
longer  before  the  mind ;  they  are  not  so  fugi- 
tive and  transient,  but  are  kept  in  their  posi- 
tion until,  like  the  solar  burning-glass,  con- 
centrating their  rays  upon  one  single  point, 
they  produce  combustion. 

The  class  of  publications  which  are  the  most 
insidious,  and  consequently  the  most  danger- 
ous, is  that  of  popular  novels.  These  ^re 
properly  works  of  imagination.  They  detail 
imaginary  scenes,  and  are  designed  to  excite 
the  imagination  of  the  reader.  When  the 
imagery  of  these  compositions  is  so  extrava- 
gant as  to  be  false  to  nature,  and  when  they 
are  of  a  licentious  or  of  an  infidel  character 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  77 

they  are  *'evil,  only  evil,  and  that  continually." 
Even  the  better  class  of  novels  are  often  ex- 
ceedingly mischievous.  Sensitive  minds — and 
most  young  minds  are  so — are  always  too  highly 
excited  by  the  extraordinary  circumstances  of 
the  tale.  The  effect  is  to  give  the  imagina- 
tion a  prei)onderance  over  the  reason.  The 
following  sentiments  from  JDean  Swift,  him- 
self the  author  of  strange  and  injurious  ro- 
mances, are  w^orthy  of  consideration : — 

"  When  a  man's  fancy  gets  astride  on  his 
reason,  Tvhen  imagination  is  at  cuffs  with  the 
senses,  and  common  understanding,  as  well 
as  common-sense,  is  kicked  out  of  doors,  the 
first  proselyte  he  makes  is  himself;  and  when 
that  is  once  compassed,  the  difficulty  is  not  so 
great  in  bringing  over  others — a  strong  de- 
lusion always  operating  from  ivithout  as  vigor- 
ously as  from  witMn,  For  cant  and  vision  are 
to  the  ear  and  the  eye  the  same  that  tickling 
is  to  the  touch.  Those  entertainments  and 
pleasures  we  most  value  in  life,  are  such  as 
dupe  and  play  the  wag  with  the  senses. 
With  relation  to  the  mind  and  understanding 
it  is  manifest  what  mighty  advantages  fiction 
has  over  truth ;  and  the  reason  is  just  at  our 
elbow — because  imagination  can  build  nobler 
scenes  and  produce  more  wonderful  revolu- 
tions than  fortune  or  nature  will  be  at  ex- 


78  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

pense    to    furnish." — Digression     Concerning 
Madness. 

About  to  the  same  purpose  are  the  follow- 
ing paragraphs  from  two  of  the  greatest 
thinkers  of  any  past  age.  John  Foster  says  : 
*'  The  influence  of  this  habit  of  dwelling  on  the 
beautiful  fallacious  forms  of  imagination  will 
accompany  the  mind  into  the  most  serious 
speculations,  or  rather  musings,  on  the  real 
world,  and  what  is  to  be  done  in  it,  and  ex- 
pected ;  as  the  image  which  the  eye  acquires 
■from  looking  at  any  dazzling  object  still  ap- 
pears before  it  wherever  it  turns.  The  vulgar 
materials  that  constitute  the  actual  economy 
of  the  world  will  rise  up  to  its  sight  in  fictitious 
forms,  which  it  cannot  disenchant  into  plain 
reality,  nor  will  even  suspect  to  be  deceptive. 
It  cannot  go  about  with  sober,  rational  inspec- 
tion, and  ascertain  the  nature  and  value  of  all 
things  around  it.  Indeed,  such  a  mind  is  not 
disposed  to  examine  with  any  careful  minute- 
ness the  real  condition  of  things.  It  is  con- 
tent with  ignorance,  because  environed  with 
something  more  delicious  than  such  knowledge 
in  the  paradise  which  imagination  creates. 
In  that  paradise  it  walks  delighted,  till  some 
imperious  circumstance  of  real  life  call  it 
thence,  and  gladly  escapes  thither  again  when 
the  avocation  is  past.     There  everything  is 


INTELLECTUAL   MANHOOD.  79 

"beautiful  and  noble  as  could  be  desired  to  form 
the  residence  of  an  angel.  If  a  tenth  part  of 
the  felicities  that  have  been  enjoyed,  the  great 
actions  that  have  been  performed,  the  benefi- 
cent institutions  that  have  been  established, 
and  the  beautiful  objects  that  have  been  seen 
in  that  happy  region,  could  have  been  imported 
into  this  terrestrial  place,  what  a  delightful 
thing  it  would  have  been  to  awake  each  morn- 
ing to  see  such  a  world  once  more.^^ 

To  the  same  purpose  Dr.  Johnson  says  :  '*  To 
indulge  the  power  of  fiction,  and  send  imagina- 
tion out  upon  the  wing,  is  often  the  sport  of 
those  who  delight  too  much  in  silent  specula- 
tion. He  who  has  nothing  external  that  can 
divert  him  must  find  pleasure  in  his  own 
thoughts,  and  must  conceive  himself  what  he 
is  not, — for  who  is  pleased  with  what  he  is  ? 
He  then  expatiates  in  boundless  futurity,  and 
culls  from  all  imaginable  conditions  that  which 
for  the  present  moment  he  should  most  desire ; 
amuses  his  desires  with  impossible  enjoyments, 
and  confers  upon  his  pride  unattainable  do- 
minion. The  mind  dances  from  scene  to  scene, 
unites  all  pleasures  in  all  combinations,  and 
riots  in  delights  which  nature  and  fortune, 
with  all  their  bounty,  cannot  bestow.  In  time, 
some  particular  train  of  ideas  fixes  the  atten- 
tion ;  all  other  intellectual  gratifications  are 


80  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

rejected ;  the  mind,  in  weariness  of  leisure,  re- 
curs constantly  to  the  favourite  conception, 
and  feasts  on  the  luscious  falsehood  whenever 
she  is  offended  with  the  bitterness  of  truth. 
By  degrees  the  reign  of  fancy  is  confirmed ; 
she  grows  first  imperious,  and  in  time  despotic. 
Then  fictions  begin  to  operate  as  realities,  false 
opinions  fasten  upon  the  mind,  and  life  passes 
in  dreams  of  rapture  or  of  anguish." — JRasselas. 
You  will  excuse  one  more  authority  upon 
this  subject,  as  I  am  now  upon  debated  ground, 
and  it  is  very  important  to  examine  it  thor- 
oughly. Dr.  Abercrombie  says :  "  There  has 
been  considerable  difference  of  opinion  in  re- 
gard to  the  effects  produced  upon  the  mind  by 
fictitious  narrative.  Without  entering  mi- 
nutely upon  the  merits  of  this  controversy,  I 
think  it  may  be  contended  that  two  evils  are 
likely  to  arise  from  much  indulgence  in  works 
of  fiction.  The  one  is  a  tendency  to  give  way 
to  the  wild  play  of  the  imagination, — a  prac- 
tice most  deleterious,  both  to  the  intellectual 
and  moral  habits.  The  other  is  a  disruption 
of  the  harmony  which  ought  to  exist  between 
the  moral  emotions  and  the  conduct, — a  prin- 
ciple of  extensive  and  important  influence.  In 
the  healthy  state  of  the  moral  feelings,  for  ex- 
ample, the  emotion  of  sympathy  excited  by  a 
tale  of  sorrow  ought  to  be  followed  by  some 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  81 

efforts  for  the  relief  of  the  sufferer.  When 
such  relations  in  real  life  are  listened  to  from 
time  to  time  without  any  such  efforts,  the  emo- 
tion gradually  becomes  weakened,  and  that 
moral  condition  is  produced  which  we  call 
selfishness,  or  hardness  of  heart.  Fictitious 
tales  of  sorrow  appear  to  have  a  similar  ten- 
dency— the  emotion  is  produced  without  the 
corresponding  conduct ;  and  when  this  habit 
has  been  much  indulged  the  result  seems  to 
be,  that  a  cold  and  barren  sentimentalism  is 
produced,  instead  of  the  habit  of  active  benevo- 
lence. If  fictitious  narratives  be  employed  for 
depicting  scenes  of  vice,  another  evil  of  the 
greatest  magnitude  is  likely  to  result  from 
them,  even  though  the  conduct  exhibited 
should  be  shown  to  end  in  remorse  and 
misery ;  for  by  the  mere  familiarity  with  vice, 
an  injury  is  done  to  the  youthful  mind,  which 
is  in  no  degree  compensated  by  the  moral  at 
the  close.'' — Intellectual  Powers. 

I  have  quoted  the  language  of  four  of  the 
most  notable  scholars  and  writers  in  the  Eng- 
lish language  upon  the  influence  of  fictitious 
tales  upon  the  condition  of  the  mind.  These 
are  great  authorities;  but  independent  of  the 
mere  influence  of  their  names  upon  an  import- 
ant question,  what  they  say  is  so  truthful  and 
so  amply  sustained  by  both  f^cts  and  philoso- 


82  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

phy,  that  I  need  scarcely  enlarge  upon  the 
subject.  Thus  stands  the  general  question  of 
the  influence  of  fictitious  narrative  upon  the 
intellectual  powers.  The  question  of  the  in- 
fluence of  a  class  of  the  romances  of  our  times, 
Avhich  constitute  so  great  a  portion  of  the  read- 
ing of  the  people,  should  be  put  upon  other 
grounds — I  refer  to  those  of  a  licentious  char- 
acter. 

That  a  large  portion  of  the  popular  novels 
of  the  day  are  calculated  to  debase  and  cor- 
rupt the  imagination,  I  shall  not  undertake  to 
prove,  nor  give  the  names  of  tliose  which 
I  would  especially  proscribe.  I  fear,  young 
gentlemen,  that  some  of  you  already  are  but 
too  intimately  acquainted  with  some  of  them. 
Well  is  it  for  that  young  man  who  has  the 
good  fortune  to  be  ignorant  of  this  whole  class 
of  injurious  books  ;  and  should  there  be  any 
w^ho  has  meddled  with  this  kind  of  litera- 
ture he  has  special  reason  to  be  thankful 
if  he  has  not  been  singed  while  sporting 
with  the  flames.  Would  you  read  such  books 
for  the  useful  hints  you  may  find  scattered 
through  them,  and  the  good  moral  of  Avhich 
the  story  may  be  capable,  or  which  may  be 
formally  drawn  from  it?  You  may  as  well 
go  to  a  sink  or  sewer  to  slake  your  thirst  be- 
cause there  is  pure  water  mingled  ^yith  the 


INTELLECTUAL  MANHOOD.  83 

filth.  Fly  the  whole  fry  of  novelists,  with 
very  few  and  rare  exceptions,  as  you  would 
flee  from  a  gang  of  wolves,  or  as  you  would 
run  from  the  plague.  Look  abroad  upon  so- 
ciety and  see  the  wrecks  of  novel-readers. 
Take  the  alarm  and  save  yourselves. 

A  lesson  or  two  of  advice,  without  enlarge- 
ment, shall  close  what  I  have  to  say  upon  this 
subject.  Avoid  strong  excitement  of  the 
imagination ;  curb  it  by  reason  and  conscience ; 
avoid  all  agencies  which  have  a  tendency  to 
corrupt  it.  Be  assured  that  its  proper  man- 
agement is  necessary  to  the  formation  of  char- 
acter, in  the  proper  sense,  manly. 


84  MANLY  CHARACTER. 


IV -EMOTIONAL  MASHOOD. 

**HE  THAT  HATH  NO  RULE  OVER  HIS  OWN  SPIRIT,  IS  LIKE 
A  CITY  THAT  IS  BROKEN  DOWN  AND  WITHOUT  WALLS." — 
PROV.   XXV,   28. 

The  art  of  self-government  is  so  important  to 
all  the  ends  of  life,  that  it  cannot,  hy  any  age, 
he  too  assiduously  cultivated.  It  is  specially 
important,  that  the  discipline  of  the  passions 
should  he  early  commenced,  that  the  power  of 
self-control  may  grow  with  the  growth,  and 
strengthen  with  the  strength,  until  it  ripens 
into  hahit.  The  young  heart  is  impressible 
as  well  as  excitable,  and,  hy  proj)er  training, 
may  be  moulded  into  any  form,  and  receive 
any  hias.  The  sensibilities,  at  this  period  of 
life,  left  to  run  riot,  will  soon  carry  away  all 
the  barriers  of  reason,  and  spoil  the  character, 
making  it  **  like  a  city  that  is  hroken  down 
and  without  walls.'' 

One  of  the  essential  attributes  of  true  man- 
Jiood,  is  the  supremacy  of  reason  and  conscience 
over  the  passions.  Hence,  young  gentlemen, 
1  propose,  in  this  lecture,  to  give  you  some 
aid  in  your  efforts  to  secure  this  object,  hy 
showing  its  real  importance  to  a  manly  char- 
acter, and  by  what  means  the  ohject  is  to  bo 
sought. 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  85, 

In  this  discussion,  I  shall  not  attempt  a 
perfect  philosophical  analysis  of  the  emotions. 
Mj  object  is  to  give  a  practical  view  of  the 
subject,  which  shall  aid  young  men  in  the 
necessary,  but  often  painful  process  of  con- 
quering themselves  ;  and  consequently  it  will 
only  be  necessary  to  call  attention  to  a  few 
of  the  leading  and  more  prominent  suscepti- 
bilities and  manifestations  of  the  heart.  A 
large  class  of  these  may  be  arranged  under 
the  head  of  desires. 

Among  our  natural  desires  may  be  classed 
the  animal  appetites. 

We  have  appetites  in  common  with  the 
lower  grades  of  animals.  These  are  given  us 
for  good  purposes,  being  designed  by  our 
Creator  to  subserve  the  ends  of  life,  and  being 
in  themselves  perfectly  harmless — th^  harm 
of  their  indulgence  being  in  their  unlawful 
use  or  their  abuse — it  is  not  a  question  whether 
they  may  lawfully  seek  gratification,  but  how 
far,  and  under  what  circumstances,  they  may 
be  gratified.  The  irrational  animal  may  in- 
dulge them  without  any  other  restraint  than 
those  of  natural  instincts,  while  men  can  only 
do  so  Avithin  the  bounds  of  reason,  or  the  limits 
prescribed  by  God  in  his  law.  The  trans- 
gression of  these  limits  constitutes  either  glut- 
tony, drunkenness,  or  libertinism,  according 


86  MANLY  CHARACTEK. 

to  the  object  which  they  seek,  and  is  always 
a  violation  of  the  higher  faculties,  and,  con- 
sequently, is  unmanly.  What  a  sad  spectacle 
it  is  to  see  a  young  man  enslaved  by  either 
of  these  vices,  and  yet  how  common  is  the 
sight !  The  process  of  sacrificing  manhood  to 
the  baser  passions,  is  easy  and  natural.  Hence 
the  danger,  and  the  necessity  of  great  vigi- 
lance upon  the  part  of  the  young  and  inex- 
perienced. Society  and  social  enjoyments, 
not  properly  guarded,  constitute  the  track 
which  leads  to  the  stagnant  pool  of  unbridled 
lust  and  beastly  indulgence.  Improper  asso- 
ciations are  the  gins  of  Satan,  in  which  the 
unwary  are  taken  and  ruined.  At  first  a 
little  indulgence  is  all  that  is  thought  of,  and 
all  that  is  conceded ;  but  the  resolution  con- 
quered once,  is  almost  certainly  prostrated 
by  the  next  temptation.  When  the  young 
man  is  solicited  to  visit  the  splendid  drinking 
saloon,  his  conscience  utters  its  remonstrances : 
but  he  says  to  himself,- this  is  the  resort  of 
respectable  men,  and  I  will  only  go  in  now 
for  once  ;  surely  there  is  little  harm  in  step- 
ping into  such  a  place  with  a  friend.  He 
does  not  seem  to  know  that  his  first  entrance 
upon  that  enchanted  ground  is  the  introduc- 
tion to  a  long  chapter,  which  almost  certainly 
follows ;  it  is  the  first  step  in  a  course  which 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  87 

leads,  through  the  filthy  kennels  which  are 
the  resort  of  common  drunkards,  to  the  gut- 
ter, and  to  the  drunkard's  grave,  and  the 
drunkard's  hell.  0  young  man !  shun  the 
cup  as  you  would  perdition.  For  one  of  the 
most  truthful  descriptions  of  the  miseries  and 
ruin  of  those  who  lead  a  life  of  intemperance, 
see  the  words  of  Solomon  :  "  Who  hath  woe  ? 
Avho  hath  sorrow?  who  hath  contentions  ?  who 
hath  babbling  ?  who  hath  wounds  without 
cause  ?  who  hath  redness  of  eyes  ?  They  that 
tarry  long  at  the  wine ;  they  that  go  to  seek 
mixed  wine.  Look  not  thou  upon  the  wine 
when  it  is  red,  when  it  giveth  his  colour  in 
the  cup,  when  it  moveth  itself  aright.  At  the 
last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent,  and  stingeth  like 
an  adder.''  Prov.  xxiii,  29-32.  The  first  in- 
stance of  incontinence  may  have  been  the 
result  of  surprise  or  sudden  temptation,  pre- 
ceded by  purposes  not  to  repeat  it,  and  to  wash 
away  its  stains  by  immediate  repentance ;  but 
it  will  be  a  miracle  of  mercy  if  it  is  not  suc- 
ceeded by  a  life  of  debauchery  and  an  untimely 
death.  Tour  only  safety  is  in  avoiding  all 
occasions  of  sin,  and  especially  the  seductive 
arts  of  those  demons  in  female  form,  who, 
ruined  themselves,  seem  to  take  pleasure  in 
ruining  as  many  others  as  possible.  On  this 
point  also  I  refer  you  to  Solomon.     He  says : 


88  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

"  For  the  lips  of  a  strange  woman  drop  as  a 
honey-comb,  and  her  mouth  is  smoother  than 
oil :  but  her  end  is  bitter  as  wormwood,  sharp 
as  a  two-edged  sword.  Her  feet  go  down  to 
death  ;  her  steps  take  hold  on  hell.  Lest  thou 
shouldest  ponder  the  path  of  life,  her  w^ays 
are  movable,  that  thou  canst  not  know  them. 
Hear  me  now  therefore,  0  ye  children,  and 
depart  not  from  the  words  of  my  mouth.  Ee- 
move  thy  way  far  from  her,  and  come  not 
nigh  the  door  of  her  house :  lest  thou  give 
thine  honour  unto  others,  and  thy  years  unto 
the  cruel:  lest  strangers  be  filled  with  thy 
wealth  ;  and  thy  labours  be  in  the  house  of  a 
stranger ;  and  thou  mourn  at  the  last,  when 
thy  flesh  and  thy  body  are  consumed,  and  say, 
How  have  I  hated  instruction,  and  my  heart 
despised  reproof;  and  have  not  obeyed  the 
voice  of  my  teachers,  nor  inclined  mine  ear  to 
them  that  instructed  me !  I  was  almost  in 
all  evil  in  the  midst  of  the  congregation  and 
assembly."  Pro  v.  v,  3-14. 

Were  we  mere  animals,  with  no  prospect  in 
the  future  but  the  extinction  of  consciousness, 
the  maxims  of  prudence  would  teach  us  to 
avoid  excesses  which  destroy  the  capacity  of 
the  physical  system  for  healthy  action,  and 
inevitably  bring  on  premature  decay  and 
death.     He  who  would  have  health  and  long 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  89 

life,  must  *'  be  temperate  in  all  things.''  We, 
however,  have  higher  motives  for  rational  so- 
briety, than  those  which  appeal  to  mere  self- 
love.  We  are  rational  beings,  and  it  is  a 
degradation  of  our  nature,  a  descent  from  the 
dignity  of  our  position,  to  plunge  into  the 
sink  of  animal  gratification.  Our  reason  was 
given  us  to  stand  at  the  helm,  and  guide  the 
ship ;  and  why  should  we  commit  ourselves  to 
the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  run  the  risk  of 
eternal  shipwreck  ?  We  are  destined  to  live 
forever,  and  w^hy  should  we  sacrifice  the  hopes 
of  a  happy  immortality  for  the  paltry  grati- 
fication of  a  moment  ?  A  sailor,  at  mast-head, 
was  observed  to  falter,  and  was  evidently  be- 
coming dizzy,  when  the  officer  below  ^cried 
out,  "  Look  aloft ! ''  He  looked  above,  and 
his  brain  was  soon  settled,  and  he  was  safe. 
Young  gentlemen,  "  look  aloff  Leave  the 
sensual  to  mere  animals,  and,  as  for  you, 
seek  your  honour,  happiness,  and  riches,  in 
the  spiritual. 

"  In  your  case  there  are  those  *  youthful 
lusts/  from  which,  by  apostolic  injunction, 
you  are  exhorted  to  flee.  In  addition  to  an 
inflammable  and  prurient  imagination,  rash- 
ness and  impetuosity  of  temper,  the  thought- 
lessness and  recklessness  of  disposition,  the 
pride  and  independence,  and  the  headstrong 


90  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

waywardness,  which  are  too  common  to  youth 
— there  are  the  animal  appetites  and  propensi- 
ties which  are  now  coming  out  in  all  their 
force ;  those  promptings  of  licentiousness  and 
impulses  of  sensuality,  to  which  there  are  so 
many  incentives,  and  which  require  so  strong 
a  restraint  by  reason  and  religion.  I  mean, 
you^ig  men,  the  vices  which  form  the  drunkard 
and  the  debauchee — those  illicit  gratifications 
which  degrade  the  man  into  the  brute.  The 
danger  here  exceeds  all  the  alarms  I  can  pos- 
sibly give.  No  warning  can  be  too  loud,  no 
entreaties  too  importunate,  in  regard  to  this 
peril.  Voices  from  the  pulpit,  from  the  hos- 
pital, from  the  hulks,  from  the  workhouse, 
from  the  lunatic  asylum,  from  the  grave,  and 
from  the  bottomless  pit — all  unite  in  saying, 
*  Young  men,  beware  of  sensuality!'  Flee 
from  it,  as  from  a  serpent  or  a  lion.'' — James, 

"  Thou  must  chain  thy  passions  down  : 

Well  to  serve,  but  ill  to  sway, 

Like  the  fire,  they  must  obey. 

They  are  good,  in  subject  state. 

To  strengthen,  warm,  and  animate ; 

But  if  once  we  let  them  reign. 

They  sweep  with  desolating  train, 

Till  they  but  have  a  hated  name, 

A  ruin'd  soul,  and  blacken'd  fame." — Eliza  Cook. 

Another  form  of  the  passion  of  which  I  am 
speaking,  is  a  desire  of  wealth. 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  91 

Earthly  treasures  have  tlieir  place  and  their 
importance.  It  is  our  duty,  by  honest  indus- 
try and  prudent  economy,  to  seek  earthly 
goods — to  make  and  save  all  that  we  consis- 
tently can.  It  might  be  a  blessing  to  have 
great  wealth,  and  the  desire  for  it,  in  itself, 
is  not  sinful.  It  is  when  this  desire  becomes 
excessive,  or  when  it  degenerates  into  "  the 
love  of  money,''  that  it  is  wrong.  This  desire 
is  usually  associated  with  a  desire  for  the 
possession  of  what  we  cannot  lawfully  have — 
of  what  belongs  to  others — this  is  covetous- 
ness,  and  "  covetousness  is  idolatry.'' 

When  the  love  of  money  becomes  a  pas- 
sion, and  a  habit,  it  destroys  all  the  generous 
emotions  of  the  heart,  and  constitutes  a  miser. 
The  feelings  and  habits  of  a  miser  are  usually 
associated  with  mature  years,  and  often  with 
old  age.  Young  men  are  more  exposed  to 
an  excess  of  liberality,  than  to  a  miserly  dis- 
position. Still,  it  is  not  certain  but  the  seeds 
of  covetousness  are  often  found  in  the  minds 
of  the  young.  Prodigality  in  expenses,  for 
your  own  gratification,  is  no  evidence  that 
you  may  not  finally  become  mean-spirited  and 
miserly.  It  is  nothing  but  early  habits  of 
benevolence,  of  enlarged  philanthropy,  that 
will  effectually  secure  you  against  one  of  the 
meanest  of  vices  when  you  are  old. 


92  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

"  0  cursed  lust  of  gold !  when,  for  thy  sake, 
The  fool  throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds; 
First  starved  in  this,  then  damn'd  in  that  to  come." 

Blair. 

Let  your  desires  for  wealth  be  moderated 
by  a  conviction  that  it  will  increase  your  re- 
sponsibilities and  your  dangers ;  only  desire 
it  in  legitimate  pursuits,  honest  and  useful 
employment,  or  lawful  enterprises.  Do  not 
desire  it  inordinately,  but  let  your  aspirations 
for  earthly  treasures  be  feeble  in  comparison 
with  your  thirst  for  useful  knowledge,  and 
your  desire  to  do  good  to  your  fellows-men. 

Another  branch  of  this  subject  is  a  desire 
of  power  or  of  influence. 

Power  over  society  may  be  a  means  of  great 
usefulness,  and  as  such  may  be  lawfully  de- 
sired. Like  the  desire  of  wealth,  it  must  have 
its  limits.  Our  object  in  desiring  influence 
must  not  be  confined  to  our  own  selfish  pur- 
poses, nor  must  this  desire  be  the  ruling  passion 
of  our  minds ;  when  this  is  the  case  it  consti- 
tutes ambition^  and  always  leads  to  indirect 
methods  for  its  acquisition.  The  ambitious 
aspirant  will  be  a  prodigal,  a  hypocrite,  a 
knave,  anything — that  he  may  gain  a  name 
and  secure  the  popular  favour. 

"  I  charge  thee,  fling  away  ambition  ; 

By  that  sin  fell  the  angels  :  how  can  man  then, 

The  image  of  his  Maker,  hope  to  win  by  it? 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  93 

Love  thyself  last ;  cherish  those  hearts  that  hate  thee  ; 

Corruption  wins  not  more  than  honesty. 

Still  in  thy  right  hand  carry  gentle  peace, 

To  silence  envious  tongues.    Be  just,  and  fear  not : 

Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim'st  at  be  thy  country's, 

Thy  God's,  and  truth's." — Shakspeaee. 

I  hope,  young  gentlemen,  you  will  never  so 
lose  your  self-respect  as  to  care  nothing  for  the 
good  opinion  of  mankind;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  I  would  warn  you  against  that  fatal  pas- 
sion which  would  seek  personal  elevation  at 
the  expense  of  honest  convictions  of  truth  and 
duty — that  would  make  you  unscrupulous  in 
the  measures  which  you  use  to  elevate  your- 
selves in  the  estimation  of  others  and  to  gain  in- 
fluence over  them.  Never  build  up  yourselves 
at  the  expense  of  your  neighbours.  If  you  can- 
not rise  but  upon  the  ruins  of  others,  be  con- 
tent with  a  low  place  in  society.  Never  tamper 
with  the  consciences  of  men  by  bribery  or  flat- 
tery, but  always  be  open,  and  fair,  and  gener- 
ous, willing  to  stand  or  fall  upon  your  own 
merits — and  then,  if  power  and  influence  come, 
use  them  as  the  gifts  of  God,  for  the  right  im- 
provement of  which  you  are  responsible  to 
him. 

Emulation,  or  the  desire  of  superiority,  the 
desire  for  the  esteem  of  others,  and  the  desire 
for  knowledge,  must  be  governed  and  limited 
by  similar  conditions  and  considerations  as 


94  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

those  which  we  have  given  above,  in  connexion 
with  the  desire  of  wealth  and  the  desire  of  in- 
fluence.    Upon  these  I  shall  not  enlarge. 

The  opposite  of  desire  is  fear,  and  as  the  due 
regulation  of  this  passion  is  concerned  in  mak- 
ing up  the  character,  a  brief  consideration  of 
it  will  be  in  place. 

Fear  may  be  considered  an  animal  instinct 
— something  man  possesses  in  common  with 
mere  animals.  It  is  designed  by  the  Creator 
to  secure  self-preservation ;  and,  in  man,  is 
right  or  wrong,  noble  or  ignoble,  according  to 
its  degree  of  in  tenseness  and  the  object  which 
excites  it.  Fear  is  the  apprehension  of  danger, 
or  a  shrinking  from  evil.  All  men  naturally 
dread  misery,  and  consequently  they  fear  per- 
sonal harm.  This  is  not  ignoble  when  there 
is  real  evidence  of  danger,  and  when  the  feel- 
ing is  not  so  intense  as  to  turn  us  from  the 
path  of  duty,  or  to  unnerve  and  so  disqualify  us 
for  the  necessary  exertions  to  escape  the  evil 
apprehended  or  to  defend  ourselves  against  it. 
When  fear  becomes  the  ruling  feeling,  and  the 
heart  loses  its  power  of  resistance  or  endurance, 
cowardice  is  the  consequence.  Cowardice  is 
sometimes  a  mere  weakness,  and  at  others  a 
vice.  It  is  a  vice  when  it  turns  its  victim  aside 
from  the  path  of  duty. 

"Fear  is  a  most  dismal  passion:   a  mind 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  95 

haunted  witli  fear  is  a  most  dismal  night-piece 
of  storm,  precipice,  ruins,  tombs,  and  appari- 
tions ;  it  is  not  content  with 'the  compass  of 
nature,  as  if  too  scanty  for  evil,  but  creates 
new  worlds  for  calamity — things  that  are  not. 
But  very  timorous  natures  only  suffer  to  this 
degree ;  and  it  is  well  they  do  not ;  for  such  a 
fear  alone  is  capable  of  taking  in  an  ample 
vengeance  of  an  incensed  God,  insomuch  that 
some  have  thought  that  hell  consisted  in  the 
severe  extremity  of  this  passion  only.  All 
that  have  fear  have  proportionable  pain.  It 
is  an  anticipation  of  evil,  and  has  under  its 
banner  confusion,  supplication,  servility,  amaze- 
ment, and  self-desertion  particularly.^^ — Br, 
Edward  Young. 

There  are  false  notions  of  courage  and  cow- 
ardice, w^hich  should  be  early  guarded  against. 
There  is  a  conventional  law  which  obtains  in 
certain  circles,  called  "the  law  of  honour,'' 
which  prescribes,  as  the  remedy  for  an  insult, 
a  challenge  to  mortal  combat ;  and  if  the  in- 
jured party  refuses  this  mode  of  redress,  or 
the  aggressor  declines  the  hostile  meeting,  in 
either  case  the  delinquent  is  branded  as  a 
coward.  All  this  would  be  right  if  this  mode 
of  settling  misunderstandings  were  not  in  con- 
flict with  the  divine  law.  As  it  is,  conscience 
being  the  more  authoritative  rule,  if  a  man 


96  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

obeys  the  impulses  of  that  principle  he  is  not 
to  be  set  down  as  a  coward  on  that  account. 
Eather  is  not  he  the  coward  who  is  afraid  of 
losing  cast  with  self-styled  gentlemen,  and, 
influenced  by  that  petty  passion,  having  its 
origin  in  pride  and  false  views  of  honour,  de- 
spises the  law  of  God  and  the  claims  of  society. 
The  duelist  is  the  dastard,  and  not  the  man 
who  considers  God,  his  country,  his  family  and 
friends,  as  holding  stronger  claims  upon  him 
than  an  absurd  and  wicked  rule  of  honour, 
which  came  down  from  the  barbarous  ages  and 
can  be  excused  only  in  savages. 

"  The  Greeks  and  Eomans  who  lived  before 
the  general  corruption  of  their  countrymen, 
never  dreamed  that  a  duel — which  is  to  be  de- 
cided by  chance,  or,  at  most,  by  a  skill  in  fenc- 
ing which  they  considered  as  the  profession  of 
their  slaves — was  a  proper  method  of  justify- 
ing one's  self  with  regard  to  a  reproach,  which 
frequently  does  not  at  all  concern  a  person's 
bravery.  The  advantage  gained  proves  only 
that  one  is  a  better  gladiator  than  his  adver- 
sary, but  not  that  he  is  exempt  from  the  vice 
with  which  he  was  charged.'' — Dr,  Dodd's 
Sermons  to  Young  Men. 

The  opposites  of  cowardice  are  courage  and 
fortitude.  Courage  braves  danger,  and  forti- 
tude endures  pain.     These  are  manly  virtues, 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  97 

and  should  be  cultivated  until  they  grow  into 
habits.  Their  foundation  should  be  self-re- 
spect and  conscious  rectitude.  They  should 
show  themselves  in  the  forms  of  unflinching 
integrity,  manly  confidence,  patient  endurance, 
and  cheerfulness  under  providential  visita- 
tions or  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  wicked  or 
foolish  men. 

One  of  the  most  important  of  the  affections 
is  hve. 

Virtuous  love  is  a  wishing  well  to  and  a  de- 
light in  a  w^orthy  object.  When  it  has  for  its 
object  the  good,  the  beautiful,  and  the  true,  it 
is  morally  right,  and  produces  harmony  and 
pleasure  in  the  soul.  The  love  of  God  is  piety : 
the  love  of  our  fellow-men  is  philanthropy, 
or  benevolence :  the  love  of  the  miserable  is 
mercy  or  pity :  the  love  of  country  is  patriot- 
ism. To  these  species  of  love  we  may  add,  as 
not  the  least  important,  the  love  of  family — 
embracing  the  love  of  parents,  brothers,  sis- 
ters, companion  and  children.  Upon  all  these 
objects  we  may  place  our  affections,  and  if  each 
has  its  appropriate  place  in  our  hearts,  one  will 
not  interfere  with  another.  All  are  indis- 
pensable, and  the  whole  train  follows  the  su- 
preme love  which  we  owe  our  Creator,  as  the 
stream  flows  from  the  fountain. 

"  It  is  both  a  misery  and  a  shame  for  a  man 

7 


98  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

to  be  a  "bankrupt  in  love,  wliicli  he  may  easily 
pay  and  be  never  the  more  impoverished.  I 
will  be  in  no  man's  debt  for  good-will ;  but 
will  at  least  return  every  man  his  own  meas- 
ure, if  not  with  usury.  It  is  much  better  to 
be  a  creditor  than  a  debtor  in  anything,  but 
especially  of  this.  Yet  of  this  I  will  so  be 
content  to  be  a  debtor  that  I  will  always  be 
paying  it  where  I  owe  it,  and  yet  never  will 
so  have  paid  it  that  I  shall  not  owe  it  more." 
—Bp,  Hall 

There  can  be  no  true  virtue — no  act  which, 
in  the  strictest  sense,  can  be  characterized  as 
virtuous — without  a  corresponding  virtuous 
principle  and  impulse  of  the  heart.  As  all 
professions  of  piety  without  the  love  of  God 
are  vain,  so  there  can  be  no  philanthropy 
without  the  love  of  our  neighbour,  no  charity 
without  love  for  the  wretched,  no  patriotism 
without  the  love  of  country.  As  men  may  be 
very  attentive  to  religious  ceremonies,  and  be 
loud  in  their  professions  without  a  spark  of 
grace  to  save  them,  so  may  they  contribute 
largely  to  benevolent  purposes  without  the 
least  spark  of  love  for  their  fellow-men,  and 
they  may  die  in  the  service  of  their  country 
without  a  particle  of  patriotism  in  their  hearts. 
To  the  outward  acts,  which  indicate  or  usually 
follow  love  in  all  these  cases,  they  may  be 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  99 

stimulated  by  pure  selfishness.  In  this  case 
their  professions  of  piety  are  hypocrisy,  their 
philanthropy  a  desire  for  human  applause, 
and  their  patriotism  vain  ambition. 

In  all  good  and  worthy  objects  the  heart 
should  take  the  lead.  Its  true  impulses,  its 
gushing  sympathies,  should  precede  and  accom- 
pany all  our  outward  actions.  Nothing  can 
supply  the  lack  of  an  honest  and  a  feeling 
heart.  A  young  man  of  a  cold,  hollow  heart, 
is  not  capable  of  a  noble  and  manly  course  of 
conduct.  Hollow  professions  of  good-will  and 
interested  displays  of  philanthropy,  or  patriot- 
ism, or  charity,  will  not  long  impose  upon  the 
public ;  and  when  the  mask  is  removed  the 
little  soul  shows  itself  to  wonderful  disadvan- 
tage. Large-heartedness  and  nobleness  of 
soul  depend  upon  the  principle  of  love  for  the 
race,  and  stamp  the  character  with  true  dig- 
nity. 

"Before  the  sparkling  lamps  on  high 
Were  kindled  up,  and  hung  around  the  sky ; 
Before  the  sun  led  on  the  circling  hours, 
Or  vital  deeds  produced  their  active  powers ; 
Before  the  first  intelligences  strung 
Their  golden  harps,  and  soft  preludiums  sung 
To  love,  the  mighty  cause  whence  their  existence  sprung, 
The  ineffable  Divinity 
His  own  resemblance  meets  in  thee. 
By  this  thy  glorious  lineage,  thou  dost  prove 
Thy  high  descent — for  God  himself  is  love." 

Mils.  RowE. 


100  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

That  miserable  counterfeit  of  the  pure  affec- 
tion of  love  which  consists  in  a  passionate  fond- 
ness for  female  society,  irrespective  of  intel- 
lectual or  moral  worth,  is  as  universally  con- 
temptible as  it  is  ruinous.  This  passion 
usually  results  from  mere  animal  desires,  and 
is  directed  by  no  rational  principle.  What 
sort  of  a  man  is  he  likely  to  make  who  is  for- 
ever running  after  the  ladies  and  whispering 
soft  nonsense  into  their  ears  ?  When  it  is  said 
of  a  gentleman  that  "he  is  a  great  ladies- 
man,"  it  is  generally  considered  rather  an 
equivocal  compliment.  Extravagant  affection 
for  the  sex  effeminates  the  mind  and  detracts 
from  the  influence  and  respectability  of  a  man. 
True  regard  for  the  female  sex  will  be  dis- 
criminating, and  will  be  productive  of  the  most 
beneficial  effects.  It  will  modify  the  asperi- 
ties of  a  rough  mental  structure,  soften  the 
heart  and  polish  the  manners.  This  is,  how- 
ever, quite  a  different  thing  from  sickening 
fondness  for  female  society,  which  arises  from  no 
virtuous  principle  and  proposes  no  laudable  end. 

The  affections  which  I  have  just  been  con- 
sidering are  called  benevolent  affections.  I 
shall  now  proceed  to  consider  an  opposite 
class,  which  are  called  malevolent  affections, 

A  family  of  the  malevolent  affections  are 
arranged  under  the  genus  anger. 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  101 

Simple  anger  is  not  always  sinful  or  un- 
manly. When  it  rests  upon  an  object  which 
is  really  hateful,  is  not  excessive,  or  long  pro- 
tracted, it  is  consistent  with  virtue  and  relig- 
ion. Hence  says  St.  Paul:  "Be  ye  angry 
and  sin  not:  let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon 
your  wrath ;  neither  give  place  to  the  devil.'' 
Eph.  iv,  26,  27. 

Anger,  as  usually  understood,  is  a  violent 
passion,  consisting  in  excessive  displeasure, 
arising  from  some  real  or  supposed  injury, 
and  a  disposition  to  injure  the  offending 
party  in  his  person  or  interests.  In  this 
sense  Solomon  uses  the  word,  when  he  says : 
"  Anger  rests  in  the  bosom  of  fools.''  When 
long  continued,  anger  becomes  hatred;  and 
when  it  assumes  that  form,  it  expels  from  the 
heart  all  its  kindly  feelings,  and  turns  the 
man  into  a  demon.  The  bosom  which  is 
filled  with  hatred  for  any  of  God's  rational 
creatures  is  necessarily  wretched. 

Hatred  naturally  seeks  the  injury  of  the 
obnoxious  object;  and  if  it  is  founded  upon 
some  real  or  supposed  injury,  seeks  revenge. 
The  language  of  revenge  is,  I  will  injure  you 
because  you  have  injured  me.  It  is  not  will- 
ing to  leave  the  punishment  of  the  wrong- 
doer with  God,  where  it  belongs,  but  assumes 
the  prerogative  of  inflicting  punishment  upon 


102  MANLY  CHAKACTER. 

transgressors,  upon  our  own  motion,  without 
the  forms  of  trial  and  conviction,  and  giving 
the  offender  no  chance  for  a  proper  defence 
before  an  impartial  tribunal.  Eevenge  is 
essentially  anti-social,  and  tends  to  the  disso- 
lution of  society.  It  is,  moreover,  contrary 
to  the  law  of  God.  St.  Paul  says :  *'  Dearly 
beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves,  but  rather 
give  place  unto  wrath :  for  it  is  written,  Ven- 
geance is  mine ;  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord. 
Therefore,  if  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him ; 
if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink :  for  in  so  doing 
thou  shalt  heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head.  Be 
not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with 
good.''  Eom.  xii,  19-21. 

A  man  may  conquer  an  enemy  by  revenge ; 
but  he  will  never  save  one  by  this  means.  If 
he  can  take  delight  in  human  ruin,  there 
might  be  some  satisfaction  derived  from  the 
act  of  taking  vengeance ;  but  this  he  cannot 
do,  unless  he  has  become  transformed  into  the 
image  of  the  destroyer  of  souls.  Is  it  not  far 
more  glorious  to  overcome  ourselves  by  forgiving 
injuries  than  to  overcome  our  enemies  \ij  pun- 
ishin^  them  ?  An  act  of  revenge  is  the  triumph 
of  disordered  passion  ;  while  an  act  of  forgive- 
ness is  the  triumph  of  reason  and  love. 

"  Nothing  doth  so  befool  a  man  as  extreme 
passion.     This   doth   both  make  them  fools 


& 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  103 

which  otherwise  are  not,  and  show  them  to  be 
fools  that  are  so.  Violent  passions,  if  I  can- 
not tame  them  that  they  may  yield  to  my 
ease,  I  will  at  least  smother  them  by  conceal- 
ment, that  they  not  appear  to  my  shame." — 
Bp.  Hall. 

We  sometimes  hear  and  read  of  the  mveet- 
ness  of  revenge.  That  soul  which  can  really 
enjoy  the  miseries  of  an  enemy,  and  can  in- 
flict them  with  a  relish,  must  be  allied  to 
Satan  himself.  A  mad  dog  is  a  hateful  ani- 
mal ;  but  a  revengeful  man  is  the  most  hate- 
ful of  all  objects  on  earth,  and  far  the  most 
dangerous.  He  consults  no  rule  but  that  of 
power.  When  he  is  able,  he  strikes  the  blow. 
He  only  awaits  the  favourable  occasion,  and 
then  he  gives  yent  to  his  gall  in  acts  of  vio- 
lence, and  then  gloats  upon  the  victim  of  his 
hellish  passion  with  fiendish  delight,  when  he 
writhes  under  the  stroke — perhaps  welters  in 
his  blood.  What  a  mere  fury  is  man  when 
under  the  power  of  this  passion ! 


"  How  rash,  how  inconsiderate  is  rage ! 
How  wretched,  0,  how  fatal  is  our  error, 
When  to  revenge  precipitate  we  run ! 
Revenge,  that  still  with  double  force  recoils 
Back  on  itself,  and  is  its  own  revenge ; 
While  to  the  short-lived,  momentary  joy, 
Succeeds  a  train  of  wars — an  age  of  torment.'* 

Frowde. 


104  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

I  need  scarcely  urge  here  that  revenge 
proceeds  upon  the  principle  that  every  one 
has  a  natural  and  moral  right  to  avenge  his 
own  wrongs ;  and  that  this  principle,  car- 
ried out,  would  not  merely  bring  us  back  to 
the  barbarous  ages,  but  rupture  the  bonds 
of  society,  and  make  the  earth  a  grand 
slaughter-house.  Upon  this  plan,  the  strong 
would  keep  the  field  until  superior  strength 
should  be  brought  against  them.  Society 
could  not  exist  upon  this  principle.  The 
man,  then,  who  purposes  revenge  in  his 
heart,  just  so  far  as  his  influence  goes,  pur- 
poses making  w^ar  upon  society,  and  is  at 
heart  an  enemy  to  the  race. 

Envy  is  another  species  under  this  genus. 
It  consists  in  pain  and  mortification  at  the 
prosperity  or  success  of  others,  arising  from 
enmity  against  them. 

"  This  is  the  most  deformed  and  most  de- 
testable of  all  the  passions.  A  good  man 
may  be  angry,  or  ashamed,  may  love,  may 
fear ;  but  a  good  man  cannot  envy.  For  all 
other  passions  ^eek  good,  but  eijvy  evil.  All 
other  passioi^s  prqpo^e  advantages  to  them- 
selves ;  enyy  §eeks  the  detriment  of  others. 
They,  therefore,  are  human ;  this  is  diabolical. 
Anger  seeks  vengeance  for  an  injury— an  in- 
jury in  fortune,  or  person,  or  honour ;   bii|j 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  105 

onvy  protends  no  injuries,  and  yet  has  an 
appetite  for  vengeance. .  Love  seeks  the  pos- 
session of  good,  fear  the  flight  of  evil,  but 
envy  neither ;  all  her  good  is  the  disadvantage 
of  others.  Hence,  it  is  most  detestable.^' — 
J>r.  Edward  Young, 

This  is  a  very  common  vice  of  our  poor  de- 
praved nature.  It  is  even  hard  for  weak 
virtue  to  suppress  this  feeling  when  a  rivat 
outstrips  us.  The  feeling  of  envy,  though 
reckoned  a  species  of  anger,  often  originates 
in  pride,  or  too  high  an  estimate  of  ourselves. 
At  other  times  it  may  arise  from  selfishness^ 
or  a  disposition  to  monopolize  all  the  good 
things.  Now,  what  are  we  that  we  should 
lay  claim  to  all  the  influence,  prosperity, 
esteem,  respect,  and  happiness  in  existence? 
What  meanness  there  is  in  a  disposition  to 
keep  all  others  upon  our  own  level,  or  a  little 
below  us !  Is  not  the  world  large  enough  for 
us  all?  Are  the  bounties  of  Heaven  so 
stinted  that  the  measure  of  prosperity  which 
is  enjoyed  by  others,  necessarily  restricts  that 
meted  out  to  us  ?  Need  we  be  the  less  happy 
because  others  are  the  more  ? 

How  much  more  noble  is  it  to  rejoice  at 
the  happiness  of  others,  though  it  far  exceed 
anything  of  which  we  can  boast.  Should  we 
not  feel  such  a  sympathy  with  our  brethren 


106  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

that  their  \yeal  is  to  us  an  occasion  of  rejoicing 
and  congratulation  ?  What  a  noble  principle 
is  that  which  embraces  the  second  table  of 
the  law :  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as 
^yself/^  If  we  love  others  as  ourselves,  we 
must  feel  a  sincere  pleasure  in  their  pros- 
perity, and  consider  that  it  furnishes  us  with 
an  occ-^sion  of  gratitude.  The  world  is  one 
l^reat  family — men  are  brothers — and  the 
welfare  of  one  is  just  so  much  towards  the 
\Yelfare  of  the  whole.  When  one  member 
suffers,  all  the  rest  should  suffer  with  him  ; 
and  when  one  rejoices,  all  should  rejoice  to- 
gether. 

Envyy  like  revenge,  is  essentially  anti- 
social, and  should  be  discarded  and  watched 
against  by  all  who  would  show  themselves 
men,  and  help  on  the  progress  of  the  world. 
Say  in  your  heart :  If  there  are  in  the  stores 
of  Providence  good  things  for  others  which 
are  not  for  me,  let  them  have  them,  and  God 
be  praised  for  it. 

What  comfort  can  there  be  in  sitting  down 
and  whining,  because  we  are  not  the  greatest 
and  most  observed  of  all.  If  God  had  seen 
proper,  he  would  have  enabled  us  to  eclipse 
all  our  contemporaries.  *'  One  star  differs 
from  another  in  glory,''  but  ''  every  one  in 
his  own  order.''     The  highest  peaks  of  the 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  107 

mountains  first  catcli  the  liglitning,  wliile 
the  valleys  drink  in  the  refreshing  showers. 

Jealousy  is  another  individual  of  the  family 
of  angry  affections.  It  consists  in  a  violent 
fear  of  rivalry,  accompanied  with  hatred,  and 
is  often  the  result  of  disappointed  or  disor- 
dered love.  This  passion  usually  originates 
in  self-distrust,  or  a  want  of  self-respect. 
The  man  who  sets  a  high  value  upon  himself 
is  not  predisposed  to  be  affected  by  jealousy ; 
but  one  who  is  conscious  of  meanness  will  be 
always  ready  to  suppose  that  his  near  friends 
have  found  him  out,  and  that,  of  course,  they 
are  ready  to  admit  others  to  a  higher  place 
in  their  consideration  than  himself.  A  jeal- 
ous disposition  is  always  despised,  as  it  really 
ought  to  be.  As  for  the  evil  workings  of  this 
passion,  they  need  not  be  mentioned,  as  they 
are  sufficiently  notorious.  Solomon  says : 
"  Jealousy  is  cruel  as  the  grave  f  and  the 
history  of  the  most  cold-blooded  assassina- 
tions, the  fruit  of  this  evil  tree,  abundantly 
illustrate  the  truth  of  the  assertion. 

One  more  of  the  malevolent  affections  re- 
mains to  be  noticed,  and  then  I  shall  have 
done.  The  master  evil  of  a  selfish,  wicked 
heart,  is  ijvide. 

Pride  consists  in  a  false  estimate  of  our  own 
character.     The  term  is  often  used  in  a  good 


108  MANLY  CHAKACTER. 

sense,  for  great  pleasure,  or  high  satisfaction, 
with  any  person  or  thing  to  which  we  hold  an 
intimate  relation.  So  we  sometimes  say  we 
are  proud  of  our  country,  proud  of  our  family, 
proud  of  our  friends.  If  this  feeling  does  not 
degenerate  into  a  species  of  idolatry,  it  is  not 
wrong.  It  is  not  in  this  sense  that  I  use  the 
word  when  I  place  it  among  the  vices,  but  in 
the  sense  first  given  it,  which  is  its  natural 
and  most  ordinary  acceptation. 

"  Spite  of  all  the  fools  that  pride  has  made, 

'Tis  not  on  man  a  useless  burden  laid ; 

Pride  has  ennobled  some,  and  some  disgraced ; 

It  hurts  not  in  itself,  but  as  'tis  placed  ; 

When  right,  its  view  knows  none  but  virtue's  bound ; 

When  wrong,  it  scarcely  looks  an  inch  around." 

Stillingfleet. 

Pride  results  in  pretension,  foppishness, 
scorn,  display,  irritability,  and  a  thousand 
other  unworthy  accidents  of  human  character, 
which  spoil  it  and  make  it  really  contemptible. 
A  young  man  who  puts  on  airs,  and  affects 
greatness,  uncommon  wisdom,  and  superiority 
to  all  his  contemporaries,  is  always  thought  to 
possess  a  shallow  brain,  and  to  have  seen  but  lit- 
tle of  the  world.  True  dignity  of  bearing  com- 
mands respect ;  but  a  sort  of  hautem*  is  quite 
too  common  among  a  certain  class  of  young 
men.  If  they  can  boast  of  the  accident  of 
wealth,  they  think  it  a  sufficient  reason  why 


EMOTIONAL  MANHOOD.  109 

all  the  world  should  do  them  reverence.  They, 
consequently,  assume  haughty  airs,  and  look 
down  upon  the  common  ranks  of  society. 

These  wealthy  loafers  and  miserable  rich 
coxcombs,  are  generally  a^  bare  of  influence  as 
they  are  of  brains.  They  may  have  interested 
flatterers,  but  friends  they  have  not.  How 
admirably  do  simplicity  and  urbanity  of  man- 
ners appear  in  men  of  wealth  and  high  re- 
spectability. Nothing  is  so  strongly  indicative 
of  a  clear  head  and  a  sound  heart.  As  illus- 
trations of  this  reflection,  I  might  point  you 
to  General  Washington,  John  Wesley,  William 
P8nn,  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  Prince 
Albert.  Who  does  not  feel  a  higher  respect 
for  the  names  of  these  distinguished  men, 
than  they  would  have  felt  had  they  been  dis- 
tinguished by  ih.Q  haughty  bearing  of  George 
the  Fourth,  Beau  Nash,  and  a  multitude  of 
great  little  men  of  our  own  country,  who 
really  do  not  deserve  to  have  their  names  re- 
corded in  connexion  with  the  historical  charac- 
ters last  mentioned. 

My  young  friends,  I  beseech  you,  as  you 
would  enjoy  the  respect  of  all  whose  respect 
is  worth  having,  as  you  would  exert  an  influ- 
ence for  good  in  society,  as  you  would  enjoy 
a  happy  contentment  with  your  lot,  as  you 
would  please  God — shun  pride :  "  Pride  goeth 


110  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

before  destruction,  and  a  haughty  spirit  be- 
fore a  fall."  Prov.  xvi,  18. 

It  will  have  been  perceived  that  the  argu- 
ment of  this  lecture  is  directed  to  the  point 
of  educating  the  hearty  That  this  process  should 
attain  considerable  maturity  before  the  young 
man  is  launched  upon  the  turbulent  sea  of 
active  life,  is  quite  evident.  To  a  great  ex- 
tent, it  is  the  heart  that  gives  men  their 
position  in  society,  giving  them  power  over  it 
for  good  or  evil,  and  interesting  them  in,  or 
isolating  them  from,  its  sympathies.  One  who 
has  never  learned  to  govern  himself,  will 
never  be  fit  to  govern  others.  It  is  not  marl^y, 
but  brutal,  to  be  a  slave  to  the  animal  pas- 
sions. It  is  only  when  the  rational  predomi- 
nates over  the  sensitive — standing  at  the  lielm, 
and  guiding  the  ship,  while  the  passions  keep 
it  in  motion — that  the  dignity  of  true  man- 
hood is  attained.  A  man  of  strong  passions, 
without  guiding  power,  is  like  a  locomotive 
let  loose  under  a  full  head  of  steam,  without 
an  engineer  or  a  brakeman.  It  would  move 
off  with  terrible  power,  but  would  certainly 
be  dashed  to  pieces,  and,  most  probably,  do 
vast  mischief  by  collision  with  trains  which 
might  be  pursuing  their  course  in  an  orderly 
manner,  without  suspicion  of  danger. 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  Ill 


V -VOLITIYE  MANHOOD. 

"the     glory    of    young    MEIir    IS    THEIR    STRENGTH." — PROV. 
XX,  29. 

In  the  present  lecture  I  shall  invite  your  at- 
tention to  the  management  of  the  will. 

It  is  not  mere  physical  "  strength "  which 
gives  to  *'  young  men'^  high  consideration, 
but  strength  of  character — a  character  which 
bears  down  untoward  circumstances,  and  makes 
itself  felt  in  society.  Such  a  character,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  will  depend  upon  the  in- 
telligence and  self-government  which  I  have 
discussed  and  enforced  in  preceding  lectures. 
Other  characteristics  still  remain  to  be  consid- 
ered which  are  of  equal  importance,  and  which 
must  be  early  and  assiduously  cultivated  by 
that  young  man  who  would  be  a  man  of  mark, 
and  make  a  strong  impression  upon  his  age. 
Perhaps  the  most  striking  features  of  all  great 
men,  are  the  strength  and  proper  government  of 
the  will.  To  these  points  I  shall  now  direct 
your  attention. 

The  will  is  the  voluntary  faculty  of  the 
soul.  It  is  that  by  which  we  determine  our 
own  actions,  and  shape  our  course  through 
life,  and  without  which  we  should  be  mere 


112  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

passive  tools,  the  sport  of  influences  without 
ourselves.  It  is,  of  course,  of  primary  import- 
ance that  this  voluntary  principle  should  have 
sufficient  strength  to  overcome  obstacles,  and 
follow  the  dictates  of  the  reason  wherever  they 
may  lead.  The  first  point  which  I  shall  no- 
tice as  necessary  to  that  power  of  the  deter- 
mining principle  which  should  be  early  ac- 
quired, is  energy. 

To  energy  is  necessary  a  certain  amount  of 
mental  excitability,  some  imagination,  and 
more  or  less  enthusiasm.  A  stoical,  unfeeling 
temperament,  may  be  firm  in  its  position,  ob- 
stinately inactive,  imperturbable  amidst  storms 
and  tempests,  but  will  never  be  strong  in 
action.  It  is  power  of  movement,  and  not  qui- 
escence, which  constitutes  the  element  of  char- 
acter to  which  I  wish  to  direct  your  attention. 
It  is  more  the  strength  of  the  heaving,  moving, 
dashing  ocean,  than  the  strength  of  the  rock- 
bound  shore  which  resists  the  fury  of  the 
billows,  that  is  here  intended.  Hence  the 
necessity  of  a  heart  capable  of  profound  emo- 
tion, of  a  strong  current  of  feeling,  and  of  a 
high  pitch  of  excitement.  The  mind  that 
merely  meddles  with  logic,  that  deals  in  mere 
abstractions,  is  incapable  of  a  high  degree  of 
activity.  Energy  of  movement  can  only  be 
found  where  there  is  a  power  of  sympathy 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  113 

with  surrounding  objects,  and  a  susceptibility 
of  rapidly  imbibing  heat  from  bodies  of  high 
temperature.  A  sort  of  central  fire  is  neces- 
sary, inward  impulsions,  a  susceptibility  of 
motives  to  action,  a  desire  for  action — a  rising, 
swelling  tide  in  the  heart,  which,  by  its  re- 
sistless power,  carries  along  the  whole  nature 
in  a  given  direction. 

Energy  is  erroneously  supposed  never  to  be 
wanting  in  youth.  It  is  a  want  vastly  more 
common  than  is  generally  supposed.  It  is 
really  the  cause  of  most  of  the  failures  made 
by  those  who  are  just  entering  upon  the  busi- 
ness of  active  life.  It  is  the  want  of  energy 
of  character  that  makes  them  the  victims  of 
foreign  influences,  and  that  is  the  cause  of 
their  drifting  off  into  unexplored  and  dan- 
gerous seas — that  prevents  them  from  stem- 
ming the  tide  of  temptation,  and  makes  them 
the  victims  of  every  species  of  influence  which 
may  be  brought  to  bear  upon  them. 

The  next  element  in  the  state  of  the  will 
which  I  am  urging,  is  decision. 

True  decision  of  character  is  one  of  the 
noblest  traits  of  a  man.  It  stands  in  oppo- 
sition to  hesitancy,  doubt,  cowardly  apprehen- 
sion of  consequences,  and  to  unreasonable 
delays.  Indecision  is  a  weakness  which  spoils 
the  character  and  ruins  the  prospects  of  the 


114  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

young  aspirant  for  fame  or  usefulness.  He 
who  doubts,  and  hesitates,  and  delays,  when 
the  way  of  action  is  open  before  him,  may 
have  negative  excellences,  but  is  wanting  in 
the  positive  elements  of  true  manhood.  It  is 
the  soul  that  dares  to  commit  itself  to  a  good 
cause,  and  to  hazard  danger  and  toil  in  its 
defence,  that  commands  the  respect  of  man- 
kind, and  is  likely  to  succeed  in  great  and 
worthy  enterprises. 

"  A  man  without  decision  can  never  be  said 
to  belong  to  himself;  since,  if  he  dared  to 
assert  that  he  did,  the  puny  force  of  some 
cause,  about  as  powerful,  you  would  have  sup- 
posed, as  a  spider,  may  make  a  seizure  of  the 
hapless  boaster  the  very  next  moment,  and 
contemptuously  exhibit  the  futility  of  the  de- 
terminations by  which  he  was  to  have  proved 
the  independence  of  his  understanding  and 
his  will.  He  belongs  to  whatever  can  make 
capture  of  him ;  and  one  thing  after  another 
vindicates  its  right  to  him,  by  arresting  him 
while  he  is  trying  to  go  on  ;  as  twigs  and 
chips,  floating  near  the  edge  of  a  river,  are 
intercepted  by  every  weed,  and  whirled  in 
every  little  eddy.  Having  concluded  on  a 
design,  he  may  pledge  himself  to  accomplish 
it — if  the  hundred  diversities  of  feeling  which 
may  come  within  the  week,  will  let  him.     His 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  115 

character  precluding  all  foresight  of  his  con- 
duct, he  may  sit  and  wonder  what  form  and 
direction  his  views  and  actions  are  destined 
to  take  to-morrow ;  as  a  farmer  has  often  to 
acknowledge  that  next  day's  proceedings 
are  at  the  disposal  of  its  winds  and  clouds.'^ 
— Essay  on  Decision  of  Character,  hy  John 
Foster, 

The  bold  resolve  is  often  the  only  condition 
of  success,  and  is  followed  by  a  series  of  ac- 
tions which  were  not  always  contemplated  at 
the  beginning.  It  is  also  usually  the  precise 
point  of  difficulty  in  the  way  of  success.  Wlien 
men  are  once  committed  to  a  cause,  they  feel 
their  interests  identified  with  it ;  their  self- 
respect  forbids  a  retrograde  movement.  They 
find  it  comparatively  easy  to  proceed,  as  they 
feel  that  public  expectation  is  settled  in  that 
direction,  and  know  that  they  would  disap- 
point and  shock  that  expectation  if  they  were 
to  yield  to  the  pressure  of  difficulties,  and 
retrace  their  steps.  When  Caesar  passed  the 
Kubicon,  he  said,  "  The  die  is  casf  So,  when 
a  man  resolves  upon  a  course,  or  commits  him- 
self to  a  cause,  he  feels  that  ''  the  die  is  cast.'' 
Caesar  did  not  know  how  fearful  would  be 
the  struggle,  nor  how  protracted  and  bloody 
the  wars  wliich  would  follow  tlie  simple  act 
of  passing  that  small  river,  nor  did  he  care. 


116  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

Whatever  the  consequences  might  be,  he  de- 
termined to  brave  them.  He  had  settled  a 
question,  and  had  publicly,  and  before  the 
world,  commenced  to  act  upon  it,  thereby 
giving  the  evidence  that  he  was  prepared  for 
the  consequences,  whatever  they  might  be. 

John  Foster — in  the  invaluable  Essay  which 
has  been  quoted  above — very  properly  ob- 
serves, that  "  to  know  how  to  obtain  a  deter- 
mination, is  one  of  the  first  requisites  and 
indications  of  a  rationally  decisive  character." 
That  knowledge  is  to  be  acquired  by  intel- 
lectual training.  It  will  be  found  that  pa- 
tient thought,  and  thorough  examination,  arc 
necessary  prerequisites  for  such  a  determi- 
nation. Marked  characters  may  seem  to 
form  their  determinations  with  great  haste ; 
but  if  the  whole  were  known,  it  would  appear 
that  the  way  had  first  been  well  prepared, 
and  every  possible  bearing  of  the  subject  well 
considered.  A  determination  is  quite  a  dif- 
ferent thing  from  a  sudden  impulse.  It  is 
the  crisis  of  action  which  the  mind  reaches 
after  a  process — perhaps  a  long  process — of 
induction.  Hence  it  does  not  go  and  come 
like  the  visions  of  fancy,  but  it  is  the  begin- 
ning of  a  series  of  acts  and  movements  which 
pause  for  nothing  that  may  oppose. 

All  our  resolves  should  have  a  definite  ob- 


to 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  117 

ject  and  aim.  Archbishop  Leighton  says : 
"With  respect  to  final  aim  and  end,  the 
greater  part  of  mankind  live  at  hazard. 
They  have  no  certain  harbour  in  view,  nor 
direct  their  course  to  any  fixed  star.  But  to 
him  that  knoweth  not  the  port  to  which  he  is 
bound,  no  wind  can  be  favourable ;  neither 
can  he  who  has  not  yet  determined  at  what 
mark  he  is  to  shoot,  direct  his  arrow  aright." 
It  is  also  essential  to  a  decided  character 
that  determinations  should  be  immediately 
carried  out.  There  is  nothing  which  more 
certainly  indicates  feebleness  of  purpose  than 
delay.  He  who  waits  for  a  convenient  season 
in  which  to  carry  out  his  purposes  is  but  half 
resolved.  The  greatness  of  that  wonderful 
character.  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  very  much 
consisted  in  the  promptness  and  rapidity  with 
which  he  carried  out  his  purposes.  He  looked 
over  the  ground,  he  calculated  the  chances, 
he  formed  his  plan,  he  resolved ;  and  almost 
instantly  his  camp  was  electrified:  all  was 
stir  and  confusion  for  an  hour,  and  then  the 
vast  army  was  in  motion.  Before  his  ene- 
mies dreamed  of  it,  he  had  passed  the  most 
formidable  barriers,  and  was  in  their  midst. 
He  never  dozed  over  half-formed  purposes. 
Action  followed  quickly  upon  the  heels  of 
determination.      This,    perhaps,    more    than 


118  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

any  other  one  thing,  gave  him  the  character 
of  the  most  decided  and  liead-strong  com- 
mander that  ever  marched  into  the  field  of 
mortal  strife. 

When  the  judgment  is  convinced,  and  the 
feelings  are  aroused,  then  is  the  time  for 
action.  **  Strike  while  the  iron  is  hot,''  is 
an  old  and  true  maxim.  As  says  Foster : 
"  The  whole  measure  of  passion  of  which  any 
one  is  capahle,  is  not  more  than  enough  to 
supply  interest  and  energy  for  the  required 
practical  exertions ;  therefore  as  little  as  pos- 
sible of  this  earthly  flame  should  be  expended 
in  a  way  that  does  not  augment  the  force  of 
action.  But  nothing  can  less  contribute  or 
be  more  destructive  to  vigour  of  action  than 
protracted  anxious  fluctuations,  through  reso- 
lutions adopted,  rejected,  resumed,  suspended  ; 
while  yet  nothing  causes  a  greater  expense 
of  feeling.  The  heart  is  fretted  and  exhaust- 
ed by  being  subjected  to  an  alternation  of  con- 
trary excitements,  with  the  ultimate  mortify- 
ing consciousness  of  their  contributing  to  no 
end.'' 

Upon  the  other  hand,  prompt  action  leaves 
room  for  other  advance  purposes,  and  thus 
passing  from  stage  to  stage  of  a  process,  life 
is  a  series  of  successes,  and  the  mind  is  con- 
stantly in  a  state  of  healthy  activity.     Using 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  119 

up  our  mental  excitement  as  fast  as  it  is 
generated,  the  laboratory  of  the  heart  becomes 
increasingly  active,  and  the  product  increases 
in  the  same  proportion.  Having  gained  a 
reputation  for  decision  of  character,  the  com- 
munity begin  to  expect  of  us  promptness, 
both  in  the  purpose  and  the  action ;  and  our 
self-respect  lends  us  aid  in  prosecuting  our 
purposes,  and  victory  over  the  most  formi- 
dable difficulties  becomes  almost  a  matter  of 
course. 

Several  Mnderances  in  the  way  of  decision 
may  now  be  noticed.  Self-distrust  often  pre- 
vents the  formation  of  the  decisive  purpose. 
A  certain  amount  of  self-confidence  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  decision  of  character.  He 
who  distrusts  himself  should  not  complain  of 
the  want  of  confidence  in  him  on  the  part  of 
others.  I  do  not  discourage  a  due  degree  of 
modesty,  or  a  sense  of  our  dependence  on 
God,  but  too  low  an  estimate  of  your  own 
powers,  and  so  feeble  a  faith  in  yourselves 
that  you  can  venture  nothing  upon  the  credit 
of  your  own  resources. 

Opposition  prevents  feeble  minds  from  de- 
cision. If  all  the  world  were  on  the  side  of 
their  contemplated  purposes,  they  would  re- 
solve at  once ;  but  perhaps  the  greater  por- 
tion  of  the  world  is   on   the  opposite  side. 


120  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

Their  purposes  are  too  feeble,  their  souls  of 
too  soft  a  texture,  to  hear  the  scorn  of  the 
multitude.  They  will  fall  in  with  the  wake 
of  the  world,  and  "follow  the  multitude," 
though  they  know  it  is  "  to  do  evil."  Fire 
melts  wax,  and  hardens  clay;  and  so  the 
very  same  opposition  which  overcomes  the 
purposes  and  the  convictions  of  some, 
strengthens  the  resolution  of  others.  Op- 
position is  an  excellent  discipline  for  a  stern, 
strong  will.  It  gives  it  the  exercise  which  is 
necessary  to  preserve  and  increase  its  power 
— a  fixedness  which  nothing  can  overcome. 

A  regard  for  public  sentiment  often  over- 
balances the  demands  of  God  and  of  con- 
science. Men  inquire,  not  what  is  duty,  but, 
What  is  public  opinion?  They  forget  that 
this  is  no  standard  of  right;  and  besides, 
that  it  is  the  most  changeable  thing  in  this 
changing  world.  The  public  sentiment  of 
to-day  may  be  the  opinion  of  a  hated  and 
proscribed  minority  to-morrow.  One  day 
the  multitude  spread  their  garments  in  the 
way  before  Christ,  and  cried,  "  Hosanna  to 
the  son  of  David!"  and  on  another  they 
cried,  "  Crucify  him  !  crucify  him  !"  And 
yet  this  same  variable  vacillating  thing, 
called  public  sentiment,  tyrannizes  over  thou- 
sands, and  paralyzes  all  their  energies.     It 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  121 

is  iiotliiiig  short  of  contemptible  cowardice 
and  meanness  to  be  such  a  slave  to  the 
opinion  of  the  multitude ;  and  yet  the  strong- 
est have  need  to  be  fortified  against  it.  How 
much  to  be  admired  are  the  noble  sentiments 
of  Mansfield,  when  threatened  by  a  mob,  and 
in  danger  of  being  torn  to  pieces  by  an  infu- 
riated multitude,  for  the  course  he  took  in 
trying  a  case.  Says  he :  "  I  wish  popularity  ; 
but  it  is  that  popularity  which  follows,  not 
that  which  is  run  after ;  it  is  that  popularity 
w^hich,  sooner  or  later,  never  fails  to  do  justice 
to  the  pursuits  of  nohU  ends  by  nohle  means. 
I  will  not  do  that  which  my  conscience  tells 
me  is  wrong,  upon  this  occasion,  to  gain  the 
huzzas  of  thousands,  or  the  daily  praise  of  all 
the  papers  which  come  from  the  press.  I 
will  not  avoid  doing  that  which  I  think  is 
rigid,  though  it  should  draw  on  me  the  whole 
artillery  of  libels — all  that  falsehood  and 
malice  can  invent,  or  the  credulity  of  a  de- 
luded populace  can  swallow.  I  can  say,  with 
a  great  magistrate  upon  an  occasion,  and 
under  circumstances  not  unlike,  *I  was  al- 
ways of  opinion  that  reproach  acquired  by 
well  doing  was  no  reproach,  but  an  honour.' " 
Another  illustration  of  the  sublimity  of  the 
daring  resolve  may  be  seen  in  the  case  of 
Luther,  when  he  was  summoned  by  the  Em- 


122  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

peror  Charles  V.  to  appear  at  the  Diet  of 
Worms.  Some  of  the  great  reformer's  friends 
cautioned  him  against  attending  the  Diet, 
referring  him  to  the  trickery  which  was  prac- 
tised in  the  cases  of  John  Huss  and  Jerome  of 
Prague.  The  memorable  reply  of  the  great 
reformer  was :  "  I  would  go  to  Worms  though 
there  were  as  many  devils  there  as  there  are 
tiles  upon  the  houses.^' 

Another  instance  of  decision  and  nohle 
daring  is  one  which  stands  out  prominently 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  will  never 
cease  to  command  the  admiration  of  man- 
kind— that  is,  the  Declaration  of  American 
Independence — an  act  which,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, stands  unrivalled  in  the  sublimity 
of  its  sentiments  and  spirit,  and  especially  as 
an  exhibition  of  decision  and  strength  of  char- 
acter  on  the  part  of  the  American  fathers 
of  1776. 

The  language  of  Patrick  Henry,  in  the 
Convention  of  Virginia,  when  the  question  of 
submission  to  the  wrongs  of  the  mother- 
country,  or  resistance  by  force,  agonized  all 
hearts,  is  a  noble  expression  of  decision  of 
character.  Said  he :  *'  If  we  wish  to  be  free 
— if  we  mean  to  preserve  inviolate  those  ines- 
timable privileges  for  which  we  have  been  so 
long  contending — if  we  mean  not  basely  to 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  123 

abandon  the  noble  struggle  in  which  we  have 
been  so  long  engaged,  and  which  we  have 
pledged  ourselves  never  to  abandon  until  the 
glorious  object  of  our  contest  shall  be  ob- 
tained, we  must  fight !  I  repeat  ifc,  sir,  we 
must  fight !  !  An  appeal  to  arms,  and  to  the 
God  of  hosts,  is  all  that  is  left  us. 

"It  is  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter. 
Gentlemen  may  cry.  Peace  !  peace  !  but  there 
is  no  peace.  The  war  is  actually  begun  !  the 
next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  north  will 
bring  to  our  ears  the  clash  of  resounding 
arms !  Our  brethren  are  already  in  the 
field.  Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What  is  it 
that  gentlemen  would  have  ?  Is  life  so  dear, 
or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  purchased  at  the 
price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Al- 
mighty God !  I  know  not  what  course  others 
may  take ;  but  as  for  me,  give  me  liberty  or 
give  me  death.^'  What  grandeur,  what  ma- 
jesty there  is  in  these  words !  It  is  not  so 
much  the  eloquence  of  the  language,  as  it  is 
the  power  of  the  high  resolve  which  produced 
it,  that  excites  admiration.  The  circum- 
stances were  of  the  most  interesting  charac- 
ter. The  Convention  were  hesitating  between 
action  and  inaction — submission  and  resist- 
ance. They  were  half  dead  with  anxiety  lest 
the  impetuous  orator  should  commit  himself 


124  MANLY  CHARACTEB. 

hy  some  rasli  and  treasonable  expression. 
Thej  were  merely  prepared  to  look  at  the 
aspect  of  affairs,  and  try  some  new  expe- 
dient to  obtain  their  rights  without  taking  up 
the  sword.  Cardinal  de  Eentz  says :  "  Timoi- 
ous  minds  are  much  more  inclined  to  delib- 
erate than  to  resolve."  The  great  orator 
waits  not  their  tardy  motion,  but,  in  thunder 
tones,  announces  his  determination  to  die 
rather  than  be  a  slave. 

In  these  instances,  the  true  dignity  of  man- 
hood stands  out  in  bold  relief,  and  shows  it- 
self to  best  advantage.  Without  a  portion 
of  the  same  power  of  determination,  in  the 
most  dubious  circumstances,  which  here  ex- 
hibits itself,  there  is  a  capital  deficiency  in 
the  elements  of  character. 

The  next  attribute  of  character  in  con- 
nexion with  the  will,  which  I  would  notice,  is 
firmness. 

Firmness  is  manifested  in  invincible  con- 
stancy under  temptations.  Decision  of  char- 
acter implies  action  under  disadvantages  and 
perils,  while  firmness  consists  in  remaining 
constant  under  strong  temptations  to  depart 
from  the  line  of  duty  or  propriety.  The  two 
things  originate  in  the  same  qualities  of 
heart,  but  differ  only  in  the  circumstances 
which  call  them  forth. 


YOLITIVE   MANHOOD.  123 

The  temptations  which  assail  our  firmness 
are  those  which  appeal  to  our  avarice,  our 
fears,  our  inclinations,  our  pride,  or  our  am- 
bition. Strength  of  will  to  resist  all  tempta- 
tions to  depart  from  the  line  of  duty  is  one  of 
the  prominent  attributes  of  fully-developed 
manhood.  It  is  important  for  a  young  man 
to  exercise  his  power  of  resisting  evil  influences 
early,  as  he  cannot  assure  himself  that  they 
will  not  assail  him  until  long  experience  shall 
have  fortified  him  against  them.  Youth  is 
peculiarly  exposed  to  temptation,  and  yet  is 
not  guarded  by  long  and  well-established 
habits  of  resistance.  Neither  have  the  young 
the  opportunity  of  long  drilling  in  the  arts  of 
war  before  the  battle  begins ;  but  they  have 
to  study  the  tactics  of  the  enemy  and  the  most 
successful  methods  of  meeting  him,  in  the  very 
heat  of  the  conflict.  Hostilities  commence 
while  you,  young  gentlemen,  are  as  yet  un- 
taught in  the  arts  of  your  adversaries,  and  if 
you  are  foolish  enough  to  be  overtaken  with- 
out your  armour  on,  or  to  be  found  upon  the 
enemy's  ground,  you  will  die  ingloriously, 
without  the  first  manly  effort  to  bring  the  foe 
to  the  dust.  It  is  a  question  of  great  moment 
how  you  shall  secure  yourself  against  early 
defeat  and  acquire  the  power  to  resist  the 
numerous  formidable  assaults  which  may  be 


126  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

made  upon  your  virtue  as  you  pass  on  to  ma- 
tui:e.  manhood. 

Just  at  this  point  I  will  give  you  a  short 
lesson — very  short  indeed,  as  it  consists  of  a 
simple  monosyllable — although  it  may  be 
somewhat  difficult  for  you  to  learn,  and  still 
more  difficult  to  practise.  The  lesson  is 
simply,  NO.  Learn  to  say  no  as  early  as  possi- 
ble. In  most  cases  of  temptation  an  emphatic, 
hearty,  unhesitating  NO,  gains  the  victory.  It 
is  hesitating,  stammering,  faintly  declining, 
wishing  to  be  excused,  consenting  with  the  eye 
while  you  deny  with  the  tongue,  that  is  the 
precise  point  of  danger.  A  young  man  invites 
you  to  a  drinking  saloon,  a  billiard  room,  or 
into  suspicious  female  society,  and  you  beg  to 
be  excused — you  have  an  engagement,  or  it  is 
getting  late  in  the  evening  ;  the  next  thing  is 
that  you  are  seized  by  the  collar  in  a  half- 
playful  manner,  with  a  ''  Come  along  here,'^ 
and  on  you  go,  like  the  ox  to  the  slaughter. 
Were  that  solicitation  met  with  a  peremptory 
NO,  and  strengthened  by  the  demand,  ''  What 
do  you  mean,  sir,  by  making  such  a  proposition 
to  ME  ?  I  thought  you  knew  me  better  f^  the 
power  of  the  seducer  would  be  neutralized  in 
an  instant,  and  you  w^ould  be  left  witli  a  pure 
conscience.  The  same  individual  would  not 
be  likely  to  assail  you  again,  and,  should  the 


VOLITIVE   MANHOOD.  127 

enemy  of  your  happiness  find  another  agent 
to  employ  in  his  destructive  schemes,  you 
would  find  victory  over  him  almost  a  matter 
of  course.  Prompt,  decisive  denial  vanquishes 
the  seducer,  and  strengthens  your  position.  In 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  a  prompt,  emphatic,  in- 
dignant NO,  will  foil  the  most  wily  tempter. 

When  it  is  considered  how  feeble  the  tempta- 
tions to  depart  from  duty  now  really  are,  and 
how  much  there  is  in  the  motives  of  religion 
and  the  common  sentiments  of  mankind  to 
render  them  still  less  potent,  what  a  miserable 
apology  for  a  man  is  he  who  suffers  himself  to 
be  turned  from  the  way  of  duty  and  happiness 
by  the  considerations  of  a  moment's  gratifica- 
tion? All  the  riches,  honours,  and  pleasures 
that  earth  can  afford  should  be  regarded  as 
lighter  than  the  dust  of  the  balance  when  put 
into  the  scales  with  a  good  conscience  and  a 
hope  of  immortality.  Especially  would  you 
degrade  yourselves  if,  by  a  little  ridicuhy  you 
should  be  made  ashamed  of  virtue  and  befooled 
into  recreancy  by  the  meanest  of  all  motives — 
a  fear  of  being  laughed  at, 

I  will  now  give  you  a  few  specimens  of  noble 
and  unconquerable  firmness  in  seasons  of  great 
trial,  greater  vastly  than  any  which  you  are 
very  likely  to  pass  through.  T  shall  take  a 
few  of  these  from  the  Bible. 


128  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

What  a  noble  example  of  constancy  is  that 
of  Joseph,  when  tempted  to  illicit  intercourse 
with  his  master^s  wife.  "  How/'  says  he,  ''can 
I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin  against 
God  ?"  You  can  imagine  the  strength  of  the 
temptation  of  a  fascinating  woman,  and  a  wo- 
man of  rank  too,  without  proceeding  so  far  as 
that  the  imagination^  shall  weaken  the  force 
of  the  noble  example.  This  great  moral  hero 
can  but  be  admired  even  by  the  worst  of 
men. 

Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego,  in  the 
face  of  the  "burning  fiery  furnace,"  when  re- 
quired to  worship  the  golden  image,  had  the 
firmness  to  give  to  King  Nebuchadnezzar  this 
glorious  answer :  "  If  it  be  so,  our  God,  whom 
we  serve,  is  able  to  deliver  us  from  the  burn- 
ing fiery  furnace ;  and  he  will  deliver  us  out 
of  thy  hand,  O  king.  But  if  not,  be  it  known 
unto  thee,  0  king,  that  we  will  not  serve  thy 
gods,  nor  worship  the  golden  image  which  thou 
hast  set  up."  Dan.  iii,  17, 18. 

The  prophet  Daniel  also  refused  to  desist 
from  prayer  to  his  God,  though  it  w^ere  at 
the  hazard  of  being  "cast  into  the  den  of 
lions." 

When  Agabus  predicted  that  Paul  should 
bo  made  a  prisoner  and  bound  at  Jerusalem, 
and  his  sympathizing  friends  "besought  him 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  129 

not  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem/'  lie  nobly  an- 
swered :  "  What  mean  ye  to  weep,  and  to  break 
my  heart?  for  I  am  ready  not  to  be  bound 
only,  but  also  to  die  at  Jerusalem  for  the  name 
of  the  Lord  Jesus."  Acts  xxi,  13. 

In  all  these  instances  conscience  held  the 
supremacy,  and  temptations  which  appealed 
to  the  strongest  passions  of  the  human  heart, 
were  manfully  and  promptly  resisted.  These 
examples  possess  a  grandeur  and  sublimity 
worthy  of  the  highest  admiration. 

The  Book  of  Martyrs  furnishes  a  thousand 
instances  illustrative  of  the  principle  upon 
which  I  am  now  insisting.  The  noble  heroism 
of  the  Scotch  Covenanters,  and  of ''  our  Pilgrim 
fathers,'^  is  a  sublime  exhibition  of  firmness 
under  great  trials  ;  also  the  history  of  our 
revolutionary  struggle  is  replete  with  in- 
stances of  this  principle.  From  each  of  these 
classes  I  might  introduce  particular  cases  of 
great  interest,  but  tlie  limits  to  which  this 
lecture  must  be  confined  will  only  admit  of  a 
very  few,  and  these  I  shall  select  from  the 
last. 

A  more  striking  instance  of  almost  super- 
human firmness  is  not  recorded  in  history  than 
that  of  General  Washington,  at  the  deeply 
discouraging  period  of  the  revolutionary  war. 
The  campaign  of   1776  had  been  most  dis- 


130  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

astrous  to  the  colonial  cause,  and  the  com- 
mander-in-chief had  "  retreated  through  the 
swamps  and  crossed  the  Delaware/^  Sparks, 
in  his  Life  of  Washington,  says  :  "  In  the  midst 
of  these  scenes  of  trial  and  discouragement, 
Washington  stood  firm.  From  his  letters, 
written  at  this  time  on  the  western  bank  of 
the  Delaware,  it  does  not  appear  that  he 
yielded  for  a  moment  to  a  sense  of  immediate 
danger,  or  to  a  doubt  of  ultimate  success.  On 
the  contrary,  they  breathe  the  same  deter- 
mined spirit,  and  are  marked  by  the  same  con- 
fidence, calmness,  and  forethought,  which  dis- 
tinguished them  on  all  other  occasions.  When 
asked  what  he  would  do  if  Philadelphia  should 
be  taken,  he  is  reported  to  have  said,  '  We 
will  retreat  beyond  the  Susquehanna  Eiver, 
and  thence,  if  necessary,  to  the  Alleghany 
Mountains.^  ^^ 

Who  can  think  of  the  condition  of  the  little 
shattered,  half-starved,  and  ill-clad  army — 
the  poverty  of  the  country  and  the  strength 
of  the  foe — and  then  conceive  of  the  strength 
of  heart  and  will  which  would  be  necessary  to 
form  such  a  purpose,  without  the  profoundest 
admiration  ?  "  Retreat  to  the  Alleghany 
Mountains,'^  in  the  midst  of  winter,  with  such 
a  feeble,  suffering  army  !  What  an  iron  nerve 
must  be  necessary  to  form  and  to  execute  such 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  131 

a  purpose  as  that !  The  purpose  was  deliber- 
ately formed,  and,  if  need  had  required,  would 
have  been  executed  ;  but,  thanks  to  a  wise  and 
gracious  Providence,  the  brave  commander-in- 
chief  was  saved  from  the  pain  of  carrying  out 
that  purpose. 

Still  another  instance  which  transpired 
within  our  own  times  we  have  in  the  case  of 
the  great  Magyar  chief  and  civilian,  M.  Louis 
Kossuth.  When  he  was  an  exile  in  Turkey,  and 
the  government  of  the  Sublime  Porte,  being 
strongly  pressed  by  the  Austrian  and  Eussian 
governments  to  give  him  up,  resorted  to  the 
expedient  of  offering  him  protection  upon  the 
ground  of  his  embracing  Mohammedanism, 
the  noble  spirit  of  this  wonderful  man  spurned 
the  offer,  choosing  rather  to  die  than  to  aban- 
don his  faith.  Said  he :  "  My  answer  does  not 
admit  of  hesitation.  Between  death  and  shame 
the  choice  can  neither  be  dubious  nor  difficult. 
Governor  of  Hungary,  and  elected  to  the  high 
place  by  the  confidence  of  fifteen  millions  of 
my  countrymen,  I  know  well  what  I  owe  to  my 
country  even  in  exile.  Even  as  a  private  in- 
dividual I  have  an  honourable  path  to  pursue. 
Though  once  the  governor  of  a  generous  peo- 
ple, I  leave  no  inheritance  to  my  children. 
They  shall  at  least  bear  an  unsullied  name. 
God's  will  be  done.     1  am  prepared  to  die.'' 


132  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

These  instances  are  designed  to  illustrate 
the  real  power  and  majesty  of  invincible  firm- 
ness under  circumstances  of  trial.  The  pmver 
of  resistance  is  no  less  necessary  to  manliness 
of  character,  than  the  power  of  decisive  action. 
Upon  the  one  depends  our  efficiency,  and  upon 
the  other  our  stability.  A  changeable  charac- 
ter cannot  have  the  public  confidence.  Of 
Eeuben,  the  patriarch  Jacob  said :  ''  Unstable 
as  water,  thou  shalt  not  excel.^^  Deficiency 
in  firmness  is  a  defect  of  character  which  often 
excites  pity,  but  never  either  respect  or  con- 
fidence. On  the  other  hand,  heroic  firmness 
is  universally  admired.  Shakspeare  says :  "  A 
good  leg  will  fail ;  a  straight  back  will  stoop  ; 
a  black  beard  will  turn  white ;  a  curled  pate 
will  grow  bald ;  a  fair  face  will  wither ;  a 
full  eye  will  wax  hollow ;  but  a  good  heart 
is  the  sun  and  moon — or,  rather,  the  sun,  and 
not  the  moon,  for  it  shines  bright,  and  never 
changes,  but  keeps  his  course  truly." 

Another  thing  implied  in  the  right  con- 
dition of  the  will,  is  perseverance. 

Perseverance  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than 
protracted  firmness  and  activity.  It  is  the 
firmness  which  maintains  itself  under  long 
delays  and  continued  opposition.  There  are 
nerves  which  will  endure  a  heavy  shock  with- 
out flinching,  which  cannot  long  preserve  their 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  t&S 

tension  under  a  heavy  pressure.  They  need 
more  patience  and  hope.  The  power  of  en- 
durance is  as  really  important  to  a  manly 
character  as  decision  and  firmness,  and  re- 
quires greater  strength  of  will.  Many,  under 
a  temporary  excitement,  will  brave  dangers 
and  resist  temptations  with  astonishing  court- 
age and  fortitude,  who  soon  become  weary, 
and  flag.  It  is  the  continued,  persevering  effort 
which  succeeds  in  the  accomplishment  of 
great  designs : — perseverance  in  the  midst  of 
disheartening  discouragements — perseverance 
against  dangers — and  perseverance  under  long 
delays.  The  strength  of  a  man^s  character 
is  brought  out  when  he  is  obliged  to  wait  long 
for  success — when  the  means  and  the  desired 
end  are  widely  separated,  or  when  the  process 
is  long,  and  involved  in  doubt;  and  when 
great  labour,  long  continued,  is  the  only  con- 
dition of  success.  Almost  any  one  can  stem 
a  current  for  a  short  period  ;  but  to  row  up 
the  whole  length  of  a  long  and  rapid  river, 
would  be  quite  another  matter. 

A  singular  instance  of  determined  perse- 
verance is  given  by  John  Foster,  as  follows  : — 

"You  may  recollect  the  mention  in  one  of 
our  conversations,  of  a  young  man  who  wasted 
in  two  or  three  years  a  large  patrimony,  in 
profligate  revels  with  a  number  of  worthless 


134  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

associates  calling  themselves  his  friends,  till 
his  last  means  were  exhausted,  when  they  of 
course  treated  him  with  neglect  or  contempt. 
Reduced  to  absolute  want,  he  one  day  went 
out  of  the  house  with  an  intention  to  put  an 
end  to  his  life  ;  but  wandering  awhile  almost 
unconsciously,  he  came  to  the  brow  of  an  emi- 
nence which  overlooked  what  were  lately  his 
estates.  Here  he  sat  down  and  remained  fixed 
in  thought  a  number  of  hours,  at  the  end  of 
which  he  sprang  from  the  ground  with  a 
vehement  exulting  emotion.  He  had  formed 
his  resolution,  which  was  that  all  these  estates 
should  be  his  again ;  he  had  formed  his  plan 
too,  which  he  instantly  began  to  execute.  He 
walked  hastily  forward,  determined  to  seize 
the  very  first  opportunity,  of  however  humble 
a  kind,  to  gain  any  money,  though  it  were 
ever  so  despicable  a  trifle,  and  resolved  abso- 
lutely not  to  spend,  if  he  could  help  it,  a 
farthing  of  whatever  he  might  obtain.  The 
first  thing  that  drew  his  attention  was  a  heap 
of  coals  shot  out  of  carts  on  the  pavement 
before  a  house.  He  offered  himself  to  shovel 
or  wheel  them  into  the  place  where  they  were 
to  be  laid,  and  was  employed.  He  received 
a  few  pence  for  the  labour ;  and  then,  in  pur- 
suance of  the  saving  part  of  his  plan,  requested 
some  small  gratuity  of  meat  and  drink,  which 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  135 

\^as  given  him.  He  then  looked  out  for  the 
next  thing  that  might  chance  to  offer ;  and 
went,  with  indefatigable  industry,  through  a 
succession  of  servile  employments,  in  different 
places,  of  longer  and  shorter  duration,  still 
scrupulously  avoiding,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
expense  of  a  penny.  He  promptly  seized  every 
opportunity  which  could  advance  his  design, 
without  regarding  the  meanness  of  occupation 
or  appearance.  By  this  method  he  had  gained, 
after  a  considerable  time,  money  enough  to 
purchase,  in  order  to  sell  again,  a  few  cattle, 
of  which  he  had  taken  pains  to  understand 
the  value.  He  speedily  but  cautiously  turned 
his  first  gains  into  second  advantages ;  re- 
tained without  a  single  deviation  his  extreme 
parsimony ;  and  thus  advanced  by  degrees 
into  larger  transactions  and  incipient  wealth, 
I  did  not  hear,  or  have  forgotten  the  continued 
course  of  his  life :  but  the  final  result  was, 
that  he  more  than  recovered  his  lost  posses- 
sions, and  died  an  inveterate  miser,  worth 
£60,000.  I  have  always  recollected  this  as 
a  signal  instance,  though  in  an  unfortunate 
and  ignoble  direction,  of  decisive  character, 
and  of  the  extraordinary  effect  which,  accord- 
ing to  general  laws,  belongs  to  the  strongest 
form  of  such  a  character.^' 

An  eminent  instance  of  perseverance  we 


136  MANLY  CHARACTER, 

have  in  John  Wesley,  whose  long  life,  which 
reached  the  period  of  eighty-four  years,  was 
filled,  up  to  the  very  last  hour,  Avith  efforts  to 
do  good.  He  preached  daily,  wrote  at  inter- 
vals, and  rode  upon  horseback.  With  all  his 
other  duties,  he  wrote  so  many  books,  that  if 
they  were  piled  up  before  you,  some,  possibly, 
might  think  it  quite  impracticable  to  read 
them  all  through  in  one  short  lifetime. 

Adam  Clarke  was  engaged  thirty  years  in 
writing  and  publishing  his  extensive  Com- 
mentary on  the  Bible,  and  at  the  same  time 
performed  an  incredible  amount  of  ministerial 
and  literary  labour.  Who  of  you  would  be 
willing  to  pledge  your  word  to  read  his  great 
work  through  in  five  years  ? 

Noah  Webster  was  engaged  on  his  great 
Dictionary  for  nesirlj  forty  years,  without  much 
intermission.  To  think  of  working  among 
the  dry  roots  of  a  multitude  of  tongues  for 
so  many  years,  with  the  one  object  in  view, 
of  making  a  dictionary !  What  immense 
tenacity  must  there  be  in  such  a  mind  !  What 
power  of  endurance  !  Such  a  mind  is  fastened 
to  its  object,  as  Prometheus  was  chained  to 
the  rock. 

These  qualities  of  a  strong  will — the  power 
of  manly  volition  and  manly  endurance — 
must  be  cultivated  until  they  ripen  into  habit. 


VOLITIVE  MANHOOD.  137 

The  condition  of  the  will,  which  I  have  de- 
scribed, is  not  to  be  acquired  at  once ;  it  will 
require  time  and  a  repetition  of  efforts,  through 
a  long  series,  to  give  that  unyielding  strength 
to  the  voluntary  action  of  the  mind  which  I  have 
described.  Hence  the  efforts  must  be  begun 
early,  and  continued  without  intermission. 
The  child  that  can  lift  six  pounds,  continues 
to  increase  the  weight,  and  to  accumulate 
strength,  until  he  can  lift  six  hundred. 

A  weak  will  should  be  strengthened  by  ex- 
ercise ;  a  wayward  will  must  be  corrected  by 
reason  and  conscience — so  that,  while  it  oper- 
ates with  decision  and  force,  it  may  always 
move  in  the  right  direction. 

There  is  a  vast  difference  between  the  traits 
of  character  above  described,  and  a  blind  ob- 
stinacy. A  decided,  firm,  and  adhesive  char- 
acter, is  regarded  with  universal  respect,  while 
an  obstinate  blockhead  is  universally  con- 
temned. The  difference  between  the  two,  is, 
that  the  one  acts  from  an  intelligent  view  of 
duty,  while  the  other  is  influenced  by  preju- 
dice or  interest.  One  is  always  open  to  con- 
viction, and  willing  and  ready  to  change, 
when  he  is  convinced  that  he  is  wrong ;  while 
the  other  is  not  susceptible  of  either  conviction 
or  conversion,  but  "  is  wiser  in  his  own  eyes 
than  seven  men  that  can  render  a  reason.'^ 


138  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

It  requires  no  little  strength  of  character 
to  acknowledge  a  wrong,  and  to  forsake  it. 
The  obstinate  man  thinks  it  would  be  de- 
grading for  him  to  change  his  course,  and  so 
perseveres,  often  against  his  own  convictions  ; 
while  the  man  of  true  decision  and  firmness, 
dares  to  correct  himself  when  he  finds  he  is 
in  error. 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  139 

VI.-SOCIAL  MANHOOD. 

"  BE   COURTEOUS.'* — ^I  PET.  IH,  8. 

We  are  all  constituted  bj  our  Creator  mem- 
bers of  society,  and  consequently  cannot  act 
solely  with  reference  to  ourselves.  As  mem- 
bers of  society,  our  conduct  has  a  bearing  upon 
others,  and  the  conduct  of  others  affects  us. 
Like  a  wheel  in  a  watch,  which,  while  it  turns 
upon  its  own  axis,  influences  the  movement 
of  other  wheels,  with  which  it  is  nearly  or  re- 
motely connected,  and  in  its  turn  is  influenced 
by  them  ;  so  action  and  reaction  constitute  a 
law  which  necessarily  governs  society.  Hence 
the  formation  of  our  social  character  is  a 
matter  of  the  highest  importance,  and  is  made 
exceedingly  prominent  in  the  teachings  of  the 
Scriptures. 

True  it  is  that  the  moral  phases  of  social 
character  are  more  especially  noticed  and  regu- 
lated than  those  which  are  merely  civil;  but 
still  these  are  not  wholly  neglected.  The 
word  (j)iXo(f}QO)v,  rendered  "courteous,^'  literally 
signifies  friendly-minded,  and  is  descriptive 
of  a  state  of  mind  which  will  show  itself  in 
civil  and  social  intercourse.  The  term  gentle- 
man,  may  be  interpreted  a  man  of  gentle  man- 


140  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

ners — one  who,  in  all  the  intercourse  of  life, 
exhibits  "  urbanity  of  manners  or  disposition, 
affability,  mildness,  freedom  from  roughness, 
or  rudeness,  coarseness,  grossness,  or  vul- 
garity/' The  basis  of  such  a  character  must 
be  constituted  of  benevolence,  humility,  and 
meekness.  In  this  connexion  we  use  these 
terms  for  social  virtues,  and  not  Christian 
graces  merely. 

"  Politeness,  in  the  common  intercourse  of 
the  world,  is  a  subsidium  to  what  Christian 
love  is  in  the  better  system  of  religion  and 
virtue.  The  former  may  be  defined,  a  con- 
stant attention  to  oblige,  to  do  or  say  nothing 
which  may  give  pain  or  offence :  and  Christian 
love  is  a  continual  endeavour  to  please,  in 
order  to  promote  our  neighbour's  best  welfare. 
While,  therefore,  my  young  friends,  you  act 
upon  the  amiable  principles  of  Christian  truth, 
let  that  love  especially,  which  is  the  most  re- 
fined politeness,  be  the  principal  regulator  of 
your  behaviour  in  conversation.  Study  always 
to  please,  in  order  to  improve  and  do  good. 
Good  sense  and  humour,  and  good  breeding, 
unite  in  nearly  the  same  dictate :  and  if  they 
carry  out  the  motive,  so  far  as  it  is  carried 
by  Christianity,  rejoice  that  you  have  the 
happy,  the  plain  direction  of  a  precept  to  form 
your  behaviour,  which  is  no  less   infallibly 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  141 

productive  of  your  own  internal  peace  and 
felicity,  than  it  is  certain  to  recommend  you 
to  the  approbation  and  good  esteem  of  others." 
— Br,  Dodd^s  Discourses  to  Young  Men, 

Courteousness,  as  a  social  quality,  was  not 
thought  to  be  a  matter  beneath  the  notice  of 
the  inspired  writers.  It  is  recorded,  to  the 
praise  of  Julius,  the  Eoman  centurion,  that  he 
*^  courteously  entreated  Paul,  and  gave  him 
liberty  to  go  unto  his  friends  to  refresh  him- 
self." Acts  xxvii,  3.  And  of  Publius  it  is  said, 
that  he  ''  received  us,  and  lodged  us  courte- 
ously." Acts  xxviii,  7.  Courteousness,  in  these 
instances,  was  a  mere  heathen  virtue,  and  yet 
is  made  a  matter  of  honourable  mention  by 
the  sacred  historian. 

The  precise  idea  to  which  I  shall  call  your 
special  attention,  young  gentlemen,  in  this 
lecture,  is  good  manners^ — manners  and  habits, 
in  your  intercourse  with  society,  which  will 
give  to  your  name  an  influence  and  attractions 
that  will  render  your  intercourse  with  so- 
ciety both  agreeable  and  useful.  To  furnish 
you  some  aid  in  the  accomplishment  of  this 
object,  I  will  point  out  several  things  which 
may  be  deemed  indispensable. 

1.  Special  attention  must  be  paid  to  your 
general  bearing. 

You  must  unite  dignity  with  gentleness. 


142  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

What  is  here  intended  is  not  a  pompous  man- 
ner, such  as  would  be  likely  to  arise  from  a 
mind  inflated  with  false  notions  of  personal 
superiority,  but  a  sense  of  your  own  worth, 
tempered  by  a  conviction  of  your  weaknesses 
and  defects.  AVhen  you  find  yourselves  in* 
clined  to  put  on  airs,  and  to  play  the  lord 
upon  a  small  scale,  just  think  of  the  incom- 
pleteness of  your  accomplishments,  and  how 
your  conduct  would  be  regarded  by  the  search- 
ing eye  of  the  well-bred  gentleman. 

Lord  Chesterfield,  in  his  letters  to  his  son, 
makes  the  following  very  sensible  observations 
upon  the  point  now  in  hand : — ''  There  is  a 
certain  dignity  of  manners  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  make  even  the  most  valuable  character 
either  respected  or  respectable.  Horseplay, 
romping,  frequent  and  loud  fits  of  laughter, 
jokes,  waggery,  and  indiscriminate  familiar- 
ity, will  sink  both  merit  and  knowledge  into 
a  degree  of  contempt.  They  compose,  at  most, 
a  merry  fellow,  and  a  merry  fellow  was  never 
yet  a  respectable  man.  Indiscriminate  famil- 
iarity either  offends  your  superiors,  or  else 
dubs  you  their  dependant,  and  led-captain. 
It  gives  your  inferiors  just,  but  troublesome 
claims  of  equality.  A  joker  is  near  akin  to  a 
buffoon,  and  neither  of  them  is  the  least  re- 
lated to  wit.     Whoever  is  admitted  or  souo'ht 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  14:3 

for  in  company  upon  any  other  account  than 
that  of  his  merit  and  manners,  is  never  re- 
spected there,  but  only  made  use  of.  Who- 
ever is  ledy  as  it  is  called,  in  company  for  the 
sake  of  any  one  thing  singly  is  singly  that 
thing,  and  will  never  be  considered  in  any 
other  light,  consequently  never  respected,  let 
his  merits  be  what  they  will.'' 

Let  your  self-respect  be  tempered  by  respect 
for  others.  A  want  of  respect  for  the  feelings 
and  opinions  of  other  men  is  evidence  of  a 
shallow  intellect,  as  well  as  a  defective  educa- 
tion. He  who  w^ould  be  respected  must  re- 
spect others,  and  he  who  would  not  be  respected 
cannot  respect  himself  Suitable  respect  for 
others  will  effectually  prevent  our  respect  for 
ourselves  from  degenerating  into  pride  and 
*'  vain  glory '' — a  condition  of  mind  which 
might  be  expected  in  a  fallen  spirit,  but  is 
utterly  absurd  in  a  fallen,  fallible  man. 

"  The  dignity  of  manners  which  I  commend 
so  much  to  you  is  not  only  as  different  from 
pride  as  true  courage  is  from  blustering,  or 
true  wit  from  joking,  but  is  absolutely  incon- 
sistent with  it ;  for  nothing  vilifies  and  de- 
grades more  than  pride.  The  pretensions  of 
the  proud  man  are  oftener  treated  with  scorn 
and  contempt  than  with  indignation — as  we 
offer  ridiculously  too  little  to  a  tradesman  who 


144  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

asks  ridiculously  too  mucli  for  his  goods ;  but 
we  do  not  haggle  with  one  who  only  asks  a 
just  and  reasonable  price/' — Chesterfield, 

Be  reserved  and  yet  familiar.  There  is  a 
happy  mean  between  austerity  of  manners 
and  that  familiarity  which  breeds  contempt. 
There  is  something  exceedingly  attractive  in 
the  character  of  a  universal  sympathizer — a 
friend  of  everybody — a  man  who  is  always 
approachable,  always  upon  a  level  with  the 
mass  of  minds  around  him,  provided  his  sym- 
pathies with  the  masses  and  his  condescension 
to  their  tastes  and  wishes  do  not  flow  on  in  so 
overwhelming  a  current  as  to  carry  away  all 
the  barriers  settled  by  a  high  regard  to  social 
and  moral  order.  Being  so  completely  fused 
with  the  mass  as  to  lose  your  own  individual- 
ity would  neutralize  your  influence  and  annihi- 
late your  name.  Such  a  familiarity  with  the 
world  as  reserves  no  secrets — such  an  identity 
of  interest  as  retains  no  capital  of  one's  own — 
such  communicativeness  as  imparts  everything 
and  keeps  nothing — so  opening  our  secret 
chamber  to  the  public  gaze  that  thieves  and 
robbers  may  easily  learn  every  avenue  of  ap- 
proach, would  be  self-destruction,  without  pub- 
lic benefit.  There  are  things  to  be  kept  within 
our  own  breasts,  and  things  to  be  published 
abroad ;  there  are  times  to  speak,  and  times  to 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  145 

be  silent.  Happy  is  he  who  has  the  penetra- 
tion to  discern  the  medium  between  undue 
familiarity  with  the  world  and  a  spirit  of 
asceticism  which  would  cast  it  entirely  away 
from  all  his  sympathies. 

Be  accommodating,  without  subserviency. 
Give  others  their  own  way  in  all  matters  of 
indifference,  but  never  yield  a  principle  be- 
cause it  may  be  asked  or  demanded  by  the 
multitude.  You  must  not  contend  about 
trifles — you  must  not  be  querulous  or  disputa- 
tious ;  but  when  a  question  of  right,  or  even  of 
taste,  is  raised,  and  you  have  settled  and  well- 
considered  opinions  of  your  own,  take  your 
ground,  but  always  with  a  readiness  to  yield 
to  conviction,  which  is  perfectly  apparent  in 
your  language  and  spirit.  Never  give  up  a 
point  of  importance,  either  of  morals  or  man- 
ners, merely  to  conciliate  others.  Frankness 
and  firmness,  mingled  with  kindness,  will  do 
more  towards  securing  the  good  opinion  of 
mankind  than  a  crouching  submission  to  what 
is  evidently  wrong,  merely  because  it  is  popu- 
lar. He  who  seeks  popularity  at  the  expensQ 
of  principle,  grasps  at  the  shadow  and  loses  the 
substance. 

"  Abject  flattery  and  indiscriminate  assenta- 
tion degrade  as  much  as  indiscriminate  con- 
tradiction and  noisy  debate  disgust.  But  a 
10 


146  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

modest  assertion  of  our  own  opinion,  and  a 
complacent  acquiescence  in  other  people's,  pre- 
serve dignity.'^ — Ohesterfield. 
y  Stand  at  an  equal  distance  from  the  man- 
ners of  a  fop  and  those  of  a  clown.  The  polish 
of  a  true  gentleman  is  not  the  prettiness  and 
tinsel  of  the  mere  man  of  fashion,  nor  is  the 
artlessBcss  and  simplicity  of  a  well-bred  man 
the  vulgarity  and  coarseness  of  the  street 
loafer.  Avoid  both  of  these  extremes,  as  being 
utterly  incompatible  with  that  manliness  of 
bearing  and  behaviour  in  society  which  consti- 
tute essential  elements  of  that  ripeness  and 
perfection  of  your  manhood,  which  should  ever 
be  your  aim,  and  which  are  essential  to  influ- 
ence and  success  in  the  world. 

"  Vulgar,  low  expressions,  awkward  motions 
and  address  vilify,  as  they  imply  either  a  very 
low  turn  of  mind  or  low  education  and  low 
company.  Frivolous  curiosity  about  trifles, 
and  a  laborious  attention  to  little  objects, 
which  neither  require  nor  deserve  a  moment's 
thought,  lower  a  man ;  who  from  thence  is 
thought  —  and  not  unjustly — incapable  of 
greater  matters.  Cardinal  de  Rentz  very 
sagely  marked  out  Cardinal  Chigi  for  a  little 
mind  from  the  moment  that  he  told  him  he 
had  written  three  years  with  the  same  pen,  and 
that  it  was  an  excellent  good  one  still. 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  147 

"  A  certain  degree  of  seriousness  in  looks 
and  motions  gives  dignity,  without  excluding 
wit  and  decent  cheerfulness,  which  are  always 
serious  themselves.  A  constant  smirk  upon 
the  face  and  a  whiffling  activity  of  the  body 
are  strong  indications  of  futility.  Whoever  is 
in  a  hurry  shows  that  the  thing  he  is  about  is 
too  big  for  him.  Haste  and  hurry  are  two 
different  things." — Ohesterfield. 

The  distinction  intended  by  his  lordship 
may  seem  obscure  or  doubtful.  Perhaps  haste 
implies  mere  celerity  of  movement,  while  hurry 
implies  a  forced  movement.  A  man  in  haste 
drives  his  business,  but  he  who  is  in  a  hurry 
is  driven  by  his  business. 

I  would  finally  say  in  general — study  to 
make  all  the  persons  with  whom  you  have  any 
intercourse,  of  whatever  condition  in  life,  per- 
fectly at  ease  in  your  presence.  Let  none  feel 
that  you  pride  yourself  upon  your  superior  en- 
dowments, education,  or  wealth.  Let  the 
simplest  and  poorest  feel  that  they  meet  you 
as  a  brother — that  your  sympathies  are  with 
them  just  so  far  as  they  exhibit  the  proof  of 
honesty  of  heart  and  elevation  of  sentiment. 
*'  Be  gentle  towards  all  men."  In  so  doing 
you  will  have  your  reward  in  the  respect  you 
will  inspire  and  the  evidence  you  will  gain 
that  you  have  been  the  meapasarf^^^^Q^K 

rnSIVBRSITTli 


148  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

the  sphere  of  human  happiness  and  exciting 
noble  aspirations  in  bosoms  which  otherwise 
would  have  been  left  entirely  under  the  con- 
trol of  grovelling  appetites,  and  would  have 
been  utterly  crushed  by  meanness  of  spirit  and 
utter  self-despair. 
/  2.  Let  your  manners  be  strictly  chaste — 
^  entirely  free  from  everything  which  would 
impart  a  taint  to  others,  or  lessen  you  in  the 
estimation  of  the  purest  and  most  elevated 
characters. 

Avoid  all  obscene,  gross,  or  low  conversa- 
tion. Even  among  yourselves  study  to  be  per- 
fectly chaste  in  your  language,  and  make  no 
allusions  which  would  have  a  tendency  to  cor- 
rupt or  debase  the  imagination.  It  is  a  most 
fatal  mistake  for  young  men  to  suppose  that 
when  they  are  away  from  society  they  may 
harmlessly  indulge  in  lewd  or  vulgar  conver- 
sation. Such  discourse  invariably  leaves  be- 
hind it  a  taint  which  it  will  be  found  difficult 
to  efface,  and  impossible  to  conceal.  The  ideas 
which  it  excites  linger  in  the  memory,  and 
haunt  the  imagination,  like  ghosts  of  dark- 
ness, until  their  impression  is  indelibly  fixed 
upon  the  soul. 

The  minds  of  young  men,  frequently  sub- 
jected to  contact  with  such  mischievous  causes, 
are  likely  to  become  corrupted,  and  as  the 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  14:9 

leading  tendency  of  the  mind  is,  such  will  be 
the  manners.  From  slight  deviations  from 
strict  purity  of  conversation,  he  who  is  taken 
in  this  snare  will  proceed  to  those  which  are 
more  glaring,  until  finally  he  casts  off  all 
semblance  of  decent  propriety  in  his  conversa- 
tion, and  becomes  a  loathsome  and  disgusting 
specimen  of  a  man  void  of  shame. 

So  dangerous  is  the  touch  of  this  fruitful 
source  of  mischief  to  young  men — unchaste 
conversation — that  you  should  consider  it  a 
sufficient  reason  for  cutting  the  acquaintance 
of  any  young  man  who  ventures  upon  impure 
allusions  in  your  presence.  "  Evil  communi- 
cations corrupt  good  manners."  What  a  truth 
is  this !  How  many  young  men,  who  have 
been  carefully  trained  in  childhood,  by  listen- 
ing to  the  ribaldry  of  practised  debauchees 
have  been  utterly  ruined. 

I  am  here  urging  the  importance  of  a  chaste 
conversation  upon  my  young  friends,  and  you 
may  not  at  first  see  why  I  seem  to  digress  into 
an  admonition  upon  the  subject  of  bad  com- 
pany. The  perfect  propriety  of  this  will  be 
seen  in  a  moment,  by  reflecting  upon  the  fact 
that  it  will  be  next  to  impossible  for  any  young 
man  to  preserve  purity  of  conversation  and  be 
in  constant  contact  with  the  filth  and  mire  of 
lascivious  discourse.     The   example   is  fear- 


150  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

fully  contagious,  and  to  be  shunned  as  the 
gates  of  hell. 

"  As  waters,  however  pure  when  they  issue 
from  the  spring,  take  the  colour  of  the  soil 
through  which  they  flow — as  animals  trans- 
ported from  one  region  to  another  lose  some- 
thing of  their  former  habits,  and  degenerate 
little  by  little — so  character  assimilates  to 
that  which  surrounds  it.  You  may  be  forced 
to  have  bad  connexions — bad  acqitaintance — 
for  perhaps  you  cannot  avoid  them — but  you 
need  not,  and  for  your  souFs  sake,  and  the  sake 
of  everything  dear  to  you,  do  not  have  bad 
companions.  Men  that  scoff  at  religion — ridi- 
cule the  godly — that  make  light  of  sin  and 
laugh  at  conscience — that  are  lewd  in  their 
actions  or  obscene  in  their  conversation — that 
are  Sabbath-breakers,  and  lovers  of  pleasure 
more  than  lovers  of  God — that  are  extrava- 
gant in  their  habits  and  loose  in  their  moral 
principles — these  are  the  fools  of  whom  Solo- 
mon speaks,  that  will  bring  their  own  destruc- 
tion npon  you  if  you  do  not  avoid  them.'' — 
James. 

3.  Study  to  observe  an  appropriate  bearing 
towards  ladies,  and  let  your  manners  in  their 
presence  be  every  way  becoming. 

If  I  were  to  lay  down  a  rule  which  would 
be  applicable  in  this  case,  and  which  would 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  161 

secure  the  end  I  have  in  view — the  regulation 
of  your  manners  in  female  society — I  would 
say :  first  form  a  right  estimate  of  the  female 
character,  and  then  let  all  your  conduct  in  re- 
lation to  the  sex  be  governed  by  that  estimate. 
He  who  has  a  proper  view  of  the  delicacy,  the 
elevation,  and  the  sacredness  of  the  female 
character,  will  usually  need  little  else  to  guide 
him  in  particular  cases  as  to  his  manners  in 
female  society.  Appropriate  manners  will 
follow  right  views  of  the  character  and  posi- 
tion of  those  with  whom  we  associate  and 
whose  tastes  and  interests  are  affected. 

"  Civility  is  particularly  due  to  all  women; 
and  remember,  that  no  provocation  whatever 
can  justify  any  man  in  not  being  civil  to  every 
woman ;  and  the  greatest  man  in  England 
would  justly  be  reckoned  a  brute  if  he  were 
not  civil  to  the  meanest  woman.  It  is  due  to 
their  sex,  and  it  is  the  only  protection  they 
have  against  the  superior  strength  of  ours. 
Observe  the  French  people,  and  mind  how 
easily  and  naturally  civil  their  address,  and 
how  agreeably  they  insinuate  little  civilities 
in  their  conversation.  They  think  it  so  essen- 
tial that  they  call  an  honest  man  and  a  civil 
man  by  the  same  name  of  honnete  homme;  and 
the  Eomans  called  civility  huraanitas,  as  think- 
ing it  inseparable  from  humanity.     As  nobody 


152  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

can  instruct  you  in  good-breeding  better  than 
your  mamma,  be  sure  you  mind  all  she  says 
to  you  about  that  subject,  and  depend  upon  it 
that  your  reputation  and  success  in  the  world 
will,  in  a  great  measure,  depend  upon  the  de- 
gree of  good-breeding  you  are  master  of.  You 
cannot  begin  too  early  to  take  that  turn  in 
order  to  make  it  natural  and  habitual  to  you, 
which  it  is  to  very  few  Englishmen,  who,  neg- 
lecting it  while  they  are  young,  find  out  too 
late,  when  they  are  old,  how  necessary  it  is, 
and  then  cannot  get  it  right.  There  is  hardly 
a  French  cook  that  is  not  better  bred  than 
most  Englishmen  of  quality,  and  that  cannot 
present  himself  with  more  ease  and  a  better 
address  in  any  mixed  company.'^ — Chester- 
field. 

To  the  attainment  of  the  right  estimate  of 
female  character,  its  diligent  study,  and  an 
acquaintance  with  the  best  specimens,  will  be 
found  necessary.  Happy  is  that  young  man 
who  has  daily  before  him  the  brightest  ex- 
amples of  female  grace  and  loveliness,  in  a 
mother  and  a  sister.  Their  spirit  and  man- 
ners, constituting  the  very  image  of  female 
excellence,  will  impress  themselves  upon  his 
very  nature.  They  will  form  a  conception  of 
the  ideal  of  female  sanctity,  which  will  oblige 
him  to  pay  homage  to  its  sovereignty.    Would 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  153 

that  all  mothers  and  sisters  knew  the  import- 
ance of  their  position — the  part  thej  are  con- 
stantly acting  in  forming  the  character  of 
sons  and  brothers. 

Again:  never  presume  that  a  lady  is  so 
wanting  in  common  sense,  taste,  or  refine- 
ment, as  not  to  be  able  to  appreciate  sensible 
and  enlightened  conversation.  The  idea  that 
ladies  are  better  pleased  with  soft  nonsense 
than  with  the  good,  the  true,  and  the  useful, 
will  be  almost  certain  to  lead  you  to  a  course 
which  will  degrade  you  in  their  estimation. 
A  young  lady  once  asked  her  father  why  it 
was  that  gentlemen  never  talked  anything 
but  nonsense  to  her.  The  father's  reply  was : 
"  This  is  no  very  great  compliment  to  your 
good  sense  and  taste,  my  dear  f  adding : 
"  When  the  gentlemen  talk  nonsense  to  you, 
you  should  talk  sensibly  to  them.  Perhaps 
this  would  change  the  character  of  their  dis- 
course." The  girl  replied,  not  without  rea- 
son :  "It  is  not  a  lady's  place  to  lead  conver- 
sation, or  give  it  character,  in  the  presence 
of  gentlemen."  This,  it  is  probable,  is  one 
instance  among  a  multitude,  in  which  a 
young  lady  tried  to  play  her  own  part  when 
gentlemen  entered  into  idle,  foolish  chat, 
although  her  better  feelings  revolted  from 
it,   and   it  tended   to  degrade  them  in  her 


154  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

estimation.  A  young  man  of  beautiful  man- 
ners and  an  empty  head,  is  soon  rightly  esti- 
mated by  his  female  friends ;  and  he  may 
be  most  wofully  deceived  in  the  opinion  that 
his  genteel  dress,  his  graceful  bows,  his  fasci- 
nating smiles,  and  his  oily  sentences,  in  the 
estimation  of  ladies,  make  ample  amends  for 
the  want  of  good  sound  sense  and  a  fund  of 
useful  information. 

A  final  remark,  most  important  of  all,  is, 
that  your  female  associates  should  be  strictly 
select.  They  should  be,  like  Caesar's  wife, 
"not  only  pure,  but  above  suspicion."  Care- 
lessness in  selecting  your  female  company 
will  be  the  grossest  injustice  to  yourselves, 
for  it  will  probably  be  the  means  of  your 
*'  dying  as  the  fool  dieth.''  Indeed,  it  would 
seem  to  indicate  that  you  have  already  doom- 
ed yourself  to  perdition. 

4.  Attend  to  your  manners  at  home,  in  the 
family  circle. 

Bad  habits  formed  in  the  domestic  circle 
seldom  leave  a  man  in  after  years,  and  give 
a  cast  to  his  manners  in  society.  Hence,  that 
young  man,  who  would  appear  to  advantage 
in  public,  must  cultivate  good  manners  under 
the  paternal  roof.  Not  that  you  should 
screw  yourself  up  to  all  the  precision  and 
formality  which  would  be  requisite  in  public 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  155 

circles.  At  home,  you  have  a  right  to  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  freedom  from  restraint,  which 
would  he  suitable  nowhere  else.  Still  here, 
as  well  as  elsewhere,  it  should  be  your  aim  to 
make  all  around  you  happy.  Here  gross, 
vulgar,  or  unkind  conduct  is  indeed  peculiarly 
out  of  place. 

Tou  ought  certainly  to  wish  to  appear  to 
advantage  before  your  best  friends.  It  is 
natural  that  you  should  desire  to  be  both 
loved  and  respected  by  your  father,  mother, 
brothers,  and  sisters ;  but  how  are  you  to  se- 
cure this  end  if  it  be  not  by  a  style  of  man- 
ners, and  a  bearing,  which  will  command 
their  affections  and  their  respect?  For  a 
young  man  to  play  the  agreeable  abroad, 
and  be  a  demon  of  discord  at  home,  is  mon- 
strous. The  thing  will  not  succeed  with  the 
public.  The  viciousness  and  vulgarity  of 
mind  which  make  a  young  man  an  uncom- 
fortable inmate  of  the  paternal  mansion,  can- 
not long  be  concealed  from  the  public  eye. 
They  will  now  and  then  show  themselves,  like 
the  claws  and  fiery  eyes  of  the  wolf  in  the 
sheep-skin,  and  will  finally  become  matters 
of  public  notoriety,  not  only  making  you  a 
terror  to  the  private  family  circle,  but  to  be 
regarded  as  a  pest  everywhere. 

"On  the  contrary,  what  inexpressible  de- 


156  MAELY  CHARACTER. 

light,  when  brothers  and  sisters  of  one  family 
live  together  in  all  the  harmony  of  friend- 
ship and  good  esteem,  mutually  delighted 
and  charmed  with  each  other's  presence  and 
society !  Peace  dwells  in  their  bosom,  and 
transport  beats  at  their  heart.  They  know 
how  to  obviate  each  other's  troubles  and  diffi- 
culties ;  they  know  how  to  impart  and  double 
each  other's  felicity  and  pleasure.  And  if, 
perchance,  their  aged  parents  live,  who  have 
formed  them  thus  to  love,  whose  early  care 
provided  for  them  this  high  feast  of  most 
delicate  sensations,  what  increasing  raptures 
do  they  feel,  from  blessing  those  parents  with 
this  fruit  of  their  care !  0  ye  happy  parents, 
if  I  could  envy  any  beings  upon  earth,  it 
were  you  who  see  your  youth  renewed  in 
good  and  worthy  children  flourishing  around 
you ;  who  see  those  children  amply  crowning 
your  days  and  nights  of  past  solicitude,  not 
only  with  the  most  reverential  respect  to 
yourselves,  but  with  what  you  wish  still 
more,  if  possible, — with  the  firmest  and  most 
respectful  love  to  each  other!  who  see  those 
children,  with  all  the  kindness  of  that  love 
you  sought  to  inspire,  like  olive  branches 
verdant  around  you ;  blessed  in  you,  blessed 
in  each  other,  blessed  in  themselves ;  the  pro- 
vidence of  God  smiling  upon  them;  success 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  157 

and  honour  attending  their  steps.  Happy 
parents !  yours  is  a  chosen  lot.  Happy  pa- 
rents !  who  from  the  moment  they  become 
such,  exert  their  utmost  efforts  to  attain  that 
lot,  and  to  strengthen,  by  the  bonds  of  religion 
and  instruction,  what  nature  so  kindly  im- 
plants, and  will  aid  so  much  in  the  rearing." 
— Dr,  Dodd^s  Discourses  to  Young  Men. 

5.  Pay  special  respect  to  age,  and  superior 
wisdom  and  experience. 

Nothing  is  a  more  palpable  blemish  in  the 
character  of  a  young  man  than  a  want  of 
reverence  for  his  seniors,  especially  his  pa- 
rents. It  not  only  exhibits  a  great  want  of 
that  modesty  which  is  the  brightest  ornament 
to  the  character  of  the  young,  but  is  a  certain 
indication  of  a  want  of  good  sense.  It  always 
implies  a  defect  in  early  training,  or  the  inter- 
position of  some  malign  influence  which  has 
perverted  the  judgment  and  heart. 

In  general,  that  impertinence  and  impu- 
dence, in  a  young  man,  which  tramples  upon 
age  and  experience,  is  a  severe  reflection  upon 
his  parents.  It  indicates  but  too  plainly,  that 
age,  at  home,  has  not  been  clothed  with  dig- 
nity, and,  consequently,  has  not  made  itself 
respected.  It  shows  that  in  his  heart,  as  in  a 
neglected  garden,  the  weeds  of  self-import- 
ance  and   self-will   have  been   permitted  to 


168  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

acquire  a  rank  growth,  while  the  good  and 
lovely  plants  of  humility  and  modesty  have 
been  neglected.  Such  neglect  always  recoils 
most  fearfully  upon  parents ;  and  although  it 
is  wicked  in  their  offspring  thus  to  visit  their 
sins  upon  them,  as  a  retribution  of  Provi- 
dence it  is  just  and  right,  and  ought  to  be 
borne  with  patience.  "  The  rod  and  reproof 
give  wisdom ;  but  a  child  left  to  himself 
bringeth  his  mother  to  shame.'' 

As  to  the  parents  who  gave  you  birth: 
"  Let  their  commands  ever  be  sacred  in  your 
ears,  and  implicitly  obeyed,  where  they  do  not 
contradict  the  commands  of  God  ;  pretend  not 
to  be  wiser  than  they,  who  have  had  so  much 
more  experience  than  yourselves  ;  and  despise 
them  not,  if  haply  you  should  be  so  blessed  as 
to  have  gained  a  degree  of  knowledge  or  for- 
tune superior  to  them.  Let  your  carriage 
towards  them  be  always  respectful,  reverent, 
and  submissive ;  let  your  words  be  always 
affectionate  and  humble,  and  especially  be- 
ware of  pert  and  ill-seeming  replies — of  angry, 
discontented,  and  peevish  looks.  Never  imag- 
ine, if  they  thwart  your  wills,  or  oppose  your 
inclinations,  that  this  ariseth  from  anything 
but  love  to  you :  solicitous  as  they  have  ever 
been  for  your  welfare,  always  consider  the 
same  tender  solicitude  as  exerting  itself,  even 


SOCIAL   MANHOOD.  159 

ill  cases  most  opposite  to  your  desires;  and 
let  the  remembrance  of  what  they  have  done 
and  suffered  for  you,  ever  preserve  you  from 
acts  of  disobedience,  and  from  paining  those 
good  hearts,  which  have  already  felt  so  much 
for  you,  their  children." — Dr,  Dodd^s  Dis- 
courses to  Young  Men. 

Those  advanced  in  years  may  often  fail  to  * 
keep  pace  with  the  progress  of  things,  and 
may  entertain  many  antiquated  notions,  and 
yet  they  may  have  experience  which  is  more 
valuable,  in  the  every-day  business  of  life, 
than  an  indefinite  number  of  novelties,  which 
are  dignified  with  the  name  of  improvements. 
Wisdom  is  not  always  with  gray  hairs;  but 
there  is  more  of  it  concentrated  there  than 
anywhere  else.  This  is  universally  conceded ; 
and,  of  course,  it  ought  to  be  conceded  that 
age  is  not  to  be  treated  as  a  sure  indication 
of  mental  decline,  and  a  proper  object  of  de- 
rision and  merriment.  The  lad  who  can 
speak  of  his  father  as  "  the  old  man,'^  and 
his  mother  as  *'  the  old  woman,''  deserves  to 
be  despised.  Such  phrases  as  the  following 
are  not  uncommon,  but  are  generally  most 
unseemly,  in  the  mouth  of  a  beardless  boy: 
*'  He  is  a  man  of  another  age ;  he  is  behind 
the  times ;  he  belongs  to  the  old  school ; 
he  has  not  kept  pace  with  the  progress  of 


160  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

the  age ;  while  he  has  been  sleeping,  the 
world  has  been  going  on."  In  the  estima- 
tion of  headlong  inexperience,  either  of 
these  phrases  is  quite  enough  to  neutralize 
the  sagest  wisdom  or  the  gravest  lessons  of 
experience.  Age  may  not  run  so  rapidly  as 
youth,  but  it  will  run  more  surely  towards 
the  mark. 

In  concluding  this  lecture,  permit  me  to 
urge  the  importance  of  the  subject  of  it  upon 
my  young  friends.  Much — almost  every- 
thing— depends  upon  manner.  How  often  is 
a  fine  performance  wholly  spoiled  by  an  unfor- 
tunate manner!  A  young  gentleman  may 
be  well  disposed,  and  highly  estimated,  and 
yet  his  society  regarded  as  a  nuisance,  in  con- 
sequence of  something  offensive  in  his  man- 
ners. He  may  not  be  able  to  see  why  it  is 
that  he  is  treated  with  coolness,  while  others, 
greatly  his  inferiors  in  point  of  intelligence, 
are  the  idols  of  every  circle.  The  whole  is 
resolved  into  the  mere  question  of  manners. 

The  range  we  have  taken  in  this  lecture 
gives  to  the  subject  of  manners  a  kind  of 
moral  force  which  some  might  hastily  sup- 
pose does  not  attach  to  it.  It  is  here,  as  I 
hope  all  will  concede,  properly  invested  with 
an  importance,  and  made  to  possess  an  in- 
trinsic worth  which  claims  the  respect  and 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  161 

attention  of  all  young  men  who  would  meet 
their  responsibilities  to  God  and  the  world. 

If  we  would  make  our  impression  upon  so- 
ciety, and  leave  our  mark  behind  us,  we  must 
carry  the  feelings  of  the  community  with 
which  we  are  immediately  connected.  Mere 
light  does  little ;  logic  seldom  converts :  it  is 
an  impression  upon  the  heart  that  does  the 
work.  What  is  it  that  takes  the  citadel  of 
the  heart  ? 

*'  Intrinsic  merit  alone  will  not  do ;  it  will 
gain  you  the  general  esteem  of  all,  but  not 
the  particular  affection,  that  is,  the  heart,  of 
any.  To  engage  the  affection  of  any  par- 
ticular person,  you  must,  over  and  above  your 
general  merit,  liave  some  particular  merit  to 
that  person — by  services  done,  or  offered ;  by 
expression  of  regard  and  esteem;  by  com- 
plaisance, attention,  &c.,  for  him;  and  the 
graceful  manner  of  doing  all  these  things 
opens  the  way  to  the  heart,  and  facilitates, 
or  rather  insures,  their  efiPects.  From  your 
own  observation,  reflect  what  a  disagreeable 
impression  an  awkward  address,  a  slovenly 
figure,  an  ungraceful  manner  of  speaking — 
whether  stuttering,  muttering,  monotony,  or 
drawling — an  inattentive  behaviour,  &c., 
make  upon  you,  at  first  sight,  in  a  stranger, 
and   how   they   prejudice   you    against   him, 


162  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

though,  for  aught  you  know,  he  may  have 
great  intrinsic  sense  and  merit.  And  reflect, 
on  the  other  hand,  how  much  the  opposites  of 
all  these  things  prepossess  you,  at  first  sight, 
in  favour  of  those  who  enjoy  them.  You  wish 
to  find  all  good  qualities  in  them,  and  are  in 
some  degree  disappointed  if  you  do  not.  A 
thousand  little  things,  not  separately  to  he 
defined,  conspire  to  form  these  graces,  this  je 
ne  sais  quoi,  that  always  please.  Observe 
carefully,  then,  what  pleases  or  displeases 
you  in  others,  and  be  persuaded  that,  in 
general,  the  same  things  will  please  or  dis- 
please them  in  you.'^ — Chesterfield, 

We  may  convince  some  of  truths,  and  of  the 
propriety  of  a  certain  course  of  life ;  but  we 
must  mcrve  their  feelings  before  we  shall  gain 
their  acquiescence  in  the  truths  we  teach,  or 
spring  their  powers  into  action  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  duties  we  enforce.  So,  if  we  would 
exert  a  wide  influence  over  society,  we  must 
take  hold  of  the  heart  of  society — we  must 
meet  the  tastes  of  society.  In  other  words, 
we  must  study  the  art  of  pleasing — of  making 
ourselves  agreeable.  Our  mien  must  be 
becoming — our  social  character  must  be  con- 
formed to  the  best  models. 

"  Manners,  though  the  last,  and  it  may  be 
the  least,  ingredient  of  real  merit,  are,  how- 


SOCIAL  MANHOOD.  163 

ever,  very  far  from  being  useless  in  its  com- 
position ;  they  adorn,  and  give  an  additional 
force  and  lustre  to  both  virtue  and  knowl- 
edge. They  prepare  and  smooth  the  way 
for  the  progress  of  both;  and  are,  I  fear, 
with  the  bulk  of  mankind,  more  engaging 
than  either.  Kemember,  then,  the  infinite 
advantage  of  manners  ;  cultivate  and  improve 
your  own  to  the  utmost ;  good  sense  will  sug- 
gest the  great  rules  to  you,  good  company 
will  do  the  rest." — Chesterfield. 

The  importance  of  keeping  good  company, 
with  reference  to  its  influence  upon  your  man- 
ners, can  scarcely  be  over-estimated.  We 
are  creatures  of  imitation,  and  are  especially 
liable  to  imitate  a  vicious  manner.  Ere  we 
are  aware,  it  fastens  itself  upon  us,  and  wo 
find  ourselves — or,  rather,  others  find  lis — 
imitating  the  mannerisms  of  some  favourite 
companion  or  friend.  As  we  are  forming  our 
manners,  we  need  the  perfect  ideal  in  our 
minds,  and  quite  essential  to  this  is  the  per- 
fect model  before  us  of  what  we  would  aspire 
to  become. 


164  MANLY  CHARACTER. 


VII -CIVIL  MANHOOD. 

"AND  THE  CHIEF  CAPTAIN  ANSWERED,  WITH  A  GREAT  SUM 
OBTAINED  I  THIS  FREEDOM.  AND  PAUL  SAID,  BUT  I  WAS  FREE- 
BORN."— ACTS  XXn,  28. 

"  A  CITIZEN  OF  NO  MEAN  CITY." — ACTS  XXI,  S9. 

The  present  lecture  will  be  devoted  to  the 
consideration  of  the  rights  and  privileges, 
duties  and  responsibilities,  of  citizens. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  these 
are  themes  which  it  becomes  young  men  to 
study  and  understand.  About  to  enter  upon 
the  relation  of  citizens,  and  to  be  invested 
with  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of  freemen, 
an  early  adjustment  to  that  condition  is  urged 
by  every  motive  of  duty  and  interest. 

In  despotic  governments,  where  every  man 
is  expected  to  be  a  soldier,  a  military  educa- 
tion is  all  that  is  deemed  requisite  for  a 
young  man.  In  free  representative  govern- 
ments, peace  is  the  natural  condition  of  pros- 
perity, and  the  civil  relations  are  matters  of 
the  highest  practical  importance.  The  candi- 
date for  citizenship  should  form  an  adequate 
acquaintance  with  the  subject  of  political 
economy,  that  he  may  have  some  tolerable 
idea  of  what  is  about  to  be  required  of  him, 
and  that  he  may  meet  the  reasonable  de- 
mands and  expectations  of  society. 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  165 

In  endeavouring  to  render  you  some  as- 
sistance in  the  pursuit  of  this  object,  I  shall 
first  inquire  into  the  rights  and  privileges  of  a 
citizen. 

Every  citizen  is  entitled  to  the  protection 
of  the  government.  According  to  the  Decla- 
ration of  American  Independence,  "  every 
man  is  born  with  certain  inalienable  rights, 
such  as  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness." These  rights  must  not  only  be  re- 
spected by  government,  but  be  protected  by 
it,  and  at  its  own  cost.  The  person  of  every 
citizen  should  be  regarded  as  sacred,  and, 
consequently,  should  be  protected  from  all 
personal  violence.  The  property  of  the  citizen 
is  also  under  the  protection  of  the  govern- 
ment; hence  the  punishment  of  theft,  rob- 
bery, and  all  species  of  fraud.  The  character 
or  reputation  of  the  citizen  is  also,  by  civil 
government,  acknowledged  as  a  personal 
right,  to  be  covered  by  its  shield.  The 
general  rule  is,  that  every  citizen  has  a  right 
to  claim  protection  in  the  pursuit  of  a  lawful 
calling,  and  has  a  right  to  the  avails  of  his 
labour.  Those,  however,  who  claim  the  pro- 
tection of  law  in  pursuits  which  are  injurious 
to  society,  demand  too  much ;  for  a  business 
is  only  lawful  when  it  does  not  infringe  upon 
social  rights. 


166  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

It  would  be  absurd  for  government  to  pro- 
tect a  business  which  wages  war  upon  the 
happiness  and  the  very  existence  of  society. 
Government  is  appointed  for  the  conservation 
of  society,  and,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  is 
bound  to  suppress  all  individual  enterprises 
which  militate  against  its  best  interests.  The 
rights  of  society  are  made  up  of  the  social 
rights  of  the  individuals  of  whom  it  is  com- 
posed, and  when  any  of  those  rights  is  in- 
vaded, society  is  injured.  If  one  man's 
rights  may  be  taken  from  him,  so  may  be 
those  of  another,  until  the  rights  of  the 
whole  community  are  destroyed.  Hence 
society  generally  is  injured  by  the  infraction 
of  the  rights  of  any  one  individual  of  its 
members,  and  each  individual  sustains  an 
injury  when  any  other  individual  is  injured. 
Such  is  the  result  of  the  social  state — such 
the  identity  of  the  social  interests  of  all  the 
members  of  the  body  politic. 

The  necessary  consequence  flowing  from 
these  positions  is,  that  when  government 
licenses  a  business  which  is  injurious  to  the 
moral  character  or  the  temporal  prosperity 
of  any  portion  of  the  community,  it  perverts 
its  proper  functions.  What  right  can  a  man 
have  to  manufacture  and  sell  an  article 
which    is  only  injurious  to  the  buyer,    and 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  167 

which,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  unfits  him  for 
the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  a  citizen? 
What  right  can  the  government  have  to 
license  such  a  business?  What  reason  can 
be  given  why  it  should  not  be  suppressed, 
under  severe  penalties  ?  Has  not  every  good 
citizen  a  claim  upon  the  government  for  pro- 
tection against  the  evils  of  every  business  of 
this  class  ?  So  I  certainly  believe ;  and  I 
have  never  yet  heard  a  reason  offered  against 
this  view,  of  which  a  sensible  man  ought  not 
to  be  ashamed.  Why  men  should  be  allowed 
to  make  themselves  rich  at  the  expense  of 
the  unwary,  the  weak,  and  the  defenceless, 
no  good  reason  can  be  given.  Why  a  busi- 
ness should  be  tolerated  that  taxes  me,  by 
creating  pauperism  and  crime,  no  one  can 
tell.  Why  the  morals — and,  consequently, 
the  happiness,  respectability,  and  usefulness 
— of  my  children  should  be  exposed,  I  might 
safely  challenge  any  one  to  show.  To  apply 
the  principles  of  social  rights,  for  which  I 
contend,  to  particular  cases,  I  would  have 
grog-shops,  gambling-houses,  houses  of  ill- 
fame,  and  every  place  of  demoralizing  amuse- 
ment, suppressed  by  law. 

The  point  to  which  I  have  arrived  naturally 
suggests  the  particular  lesson  which  I  wish  to 
inculcate  upon  your  minds,  and  which  I  hope 


168  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

may  be  well  considered.  In  selecting  a  course 
of  life,  you  have  more  than  one  thing  to 
look  at.  The  mere  pecuniary  advantages  of 
the  business  which  you  select  as  a  means  of 
livelihood,  is  not  everything,  nor  the  principal 
thing,  to  be  considered.  You  are  to  inquire 
whether  it  is  a  useful  and  an  honourable,  as 
well  as  a  profitable,  employment.  As  you 
have  no  right  to  make  war  upon  society  for 
your  own  benefit,  you  cannot  justly  engage 
in  a  business  without  taking  into  considera- 
tion the  influence  it  will  exert  upon  the 
moral  character,  the  social  condition,  the 
domestic  comfort,  the  wealth,  and  the  happi- 
ness of  the  community  of  which  you  constitute 
a  member.  Permit  me  then  to  hope,  young 
gentlemen,  that  none  of  you  are  candidates 
for  a  position  in  connexion  with  any  of  those 
schools  of  vice — manufactories  of  pauperism 
— machines  to  press  tears  from  the  eyes  of 
widows  and  orphans — antechambers  to  per- 
dition— which  are  so  abundant  in  this  wicked 
world.  Shun  them  —  hate  them  —  despise 
them — from  the  lowest  groggery  to  the  most 
splendid  theatre.  Never  help  yourselves  to 
cash  by  helping  others  to  bitter  remorse, 
poverty,  disgrace,  and  ruin.  You  have  no 
right  to  do  this.  No  human  law  can  give 
you  the  right. 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  169 

Before  leaving  this  part  of  tlie  subject,  it 
may  be  proper  to  say  a  few  words  upon  the 
manner  of  supporting  your  rights  as  citizens. 
You  are  not  bound  to  submit  to  any  en- 
croachments upon  your  civil  rights,  except  in 
cases  in  which  the  vindication  of  those  rights 
would  cost  you  more  than  they  are  worth,  or 
the  suffering  of  the  wrong  would  exert  a 
moral  influence  which  would  be  worth  more 
to  the  public  than  what  you  lose  is  to  you. 
In  such  cases,  it  would  be  your  duty,  as  a 
Christian,  or  even  as  a  good  citizen,  to  suffer 
wrong.  This  lesson  is  taught  us  by  our 
blessed  Saviour  in  the  following  remarkable 
language : — "  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath 
been  said.  An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth :  but  I  say  unto  you.  That  ye  resist 
not  evil;  but  whosoever  shall  smite  thee  on 
thy  right  cheek  turn  to  him  the  other  also. 
And  if  any  man  will  sue  thee  at  the  law,  and 
take  away  thy  coat,  let  him  have  thy  cloak 
also.  And  whosoever  shall  compel  thee  to  go 
a  mile,  go  with  him  twain.  Give  to  him  that 
asketh  thee;  and  from  him  that  would  bor- 
row of  thee  turn  not  thou  away."  Matthew 
V,  38-42. 

When  you  find  it  proper  to  seek  a  remedy 
for  any  encroachment  upon  your  rights,  you 
must  not  forget  that  you  are  a  member  of 


170  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

society,  and  that  one  of  tlie  conditions  of  the 
social  compact  is,  that  you  yield  to  society 
the  prerogative  of  avenging  your  social 
wrongs,  or  punishing  those  who  may  have 
been  guilty  of  perpetrating  them.  You  are 
not  your  own  judge,  jury,  and  gaoler.  You 
must  seek  your  redress  in  an  orderly  man- 
ner, by  application  to  the  administrators  of 
justice.  A  mob  is  always  wrong — they  may 
be  in  pursuit  of  justice,  and,  so  far,  their 
object  is  right ;  but  the  means  by  which  they 
seek  to  attain  it  are  wrong.  For  an  indi- 
vidual to  take  the  law  into  his  own  hands, 
and  avenge  his  own  wrongs,  is  to  act  upon 
the  mob  principle.  In  both  instances,  war  is 
made  upon  the  social  system :  for  if  one  man 
has  a  right  to  avenge  his  own  wrongs,  so  has 
another;  if  one  company,  or  mob,  has  a 
right  to  abate  an  inconvenience  or  nuisance, 
or  punish  a  crime,  so  has  another;  and,  of 
course,  this  right  asserted  by  all,  would  dis- 
solve society,  and  reduce  it  to  a  state  of  bar- 
barism. 

In  a  country  like  ours,  in  which  the  laws 
are  made  by  the  representatives  of  the  people, 
and  unequal  or  unjust  laws  can  be  repealed 
or  amended  with  little  delay,  there  is  no  ex- 
cuse for  mobs,  or  for  an  unlawful  assumption 
of  the  seat  of  justice  in  any  form.     It  is  par- 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  171 

ticularlj  important  that  tlie  young  men  of 
America  should  be  taught  to  respect  the  laws, 
and  to  rally  around  their  authorized  adminis- 
trators— that  they  should  learn  to  consider 
themselves  as  members  of  society,  and  not 
as  isolated  individuals — that  they  should  be 
governed  by  law,  and  not  be  impelled  by  pas- 
sion to  seek  their  rights  by  brute  force,  or 
mob  violence.  Upon  the  adoption  or  rejection 
of  this  principle,  to  a  great  extent,  depend 
the  character  of  our  future  history,  and  the 
permanency  of  our  free  institutions.  "  Kender 
to  Caesar  the  things  which  are  Caesar's,"  is  a 
divine  precept,  and  implies  the  general  duty 
of  respect  for  the  legitimate  government.  St. 
Paul  gives  us  the  true  political  philosophy  of 
a  Christian,  in  the  following  explicit  terms : 
"  Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the  higher 
powers.  For  there  is  no  power  but  of  God: 
the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God.  Who- 
soever therefore  resisteth  the  power,  resisteth 
the  ordinance  of  God :  and  they  that  resist 
shall  receive  to  themselves  damnation.  For 
rulers  are  not  a  terror  to  good  works,  but  to 
the  evil.  Wilt  thou  then  not  be  afraid  of  the 
power  ?  do  that  which  is  good,  and  thou  shalt 
have  praise  of  the  same :  for  he  is  the  min- 
ister of  God  to  thee  for  good.  But  if  thou  do 
that  which  is  evil,  be  afraid ;  for  he  beareth 


172  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

not  the  sword  in  vain :  for  he  is  the  minister 
of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath  upon  him 
that  doeth  evil.  Wherefore  ye  must  needs 
be  subject,  not  only  for  wrath,  but  also  for 
conscience'  sake.  For,  for  this  cause  pay  ye 
tribute  also :  for  they  are  God's  ministers, 
attending  continually  upon  this  very  thing. 
Eender  therefore  to  all  their  dues  :  tribute  to 
whom  tribute  is  due ;  custom  to  whom  custom ; 
fear  to  whom  fear ;  honour  to  whom  honour.'' 
Eom.  xiii,  1—7, 

In  the  next  place  I  shall  invite  your  atten- 
tion to  the  responsibilities  of  a  citizen. 

Individual  responsibility  extends  as  far  as 
individual  power,  and  no  farther.  No  indi- 
vidual citizen  is  responsible  for  the  whole 
community,  unless,  indeed,  it  can  be  shown 
that  he  occupies  the  singular  position  of  hav- 
ing been  able  to  control  the  conduct,  and 
form  the  character,  of  the  whole  community. 
This  is  a  case  which,  if  it  be  supposed  a  pos- 
sibility, is  not  subject  to  the  ordinary  laws  of 
human  responsibility.  Every  community  is 
composed  of  individuals,  and  just  so  far  as 
each  one  is  capable  of  exerting  an  influence 
upon  the  character  of  society,  just  so  far  is  he 
responsible  for  the  evils  which  are  found  in 
social  life.  This  is  the  rule  of  justice,  and  the 
one  by  which  every  individual  will  be  tried. 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  173 

Ifc  must  be  specially  noticed,  that  our  re- 
sponsibility extends  to  the  influence  which  we 
exert  upon  others.  If  we  were  the  only  in- 
dividuals in  the  world,  we  should  only  be 
responsible  for  our  actions,  as  they  relate  to 
God  and  ourselves.  As  we  are  social  beings, 
and  our  actions,  in  various  ways,  influence 
society,  we  are  responsible  for  the  social  state 
to  the  extent  in  which  we  have  had  a  hand  in 
forming  that  state.  We  are  responsible  for 
the  character  and  conduct  of  others  in  exact 
proportion  to  our  instrumentality  in  forming 
that  character,  and  influencing  that  conduct. 
Cain,  the  first  murderer,  demanded  of  God : 
"  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?''  This  demand 
contains  an  anti-social  principle.  It  implies 
that  men  are  so  isolated  from  each  other  as 
to  have  no  social  responsibilities — that  each 
one  has  only  to  look  out  for  himself.  This  is 
not  only  a  most  narrow  and  selfish  view,  but 
is  totally  contrary  to  the  law  of  God  and  the 
conditions  of  the  social  state.  If  I  injure  a 
man's  intellectual  or  moral  character,  and 
that  injury  results  in  an  extensive  injury  to 
society,  I  am  responsible  for  the  result.  The 
victim  of  my  ill  example,  or  of  my  corrupt 
teaching,  is  indeed  voluntary  in  following  me, 
and  is  himself  responsible,  but  that  does  not 
excuse  me.     If  the  social  state  is  such,  that 


174  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

men  naturally  and  necessarily  influence  each 
other,  we  are  bound,  as  members  of  the  social 
compact,  to  consider  what  influence  our  con- 
duct and  character  will  have  upon  others. 
Our  responsibilities  run  through  all  the  rami- 
fications of  society,  just  so  far  as  we  come 
into  contact  with  society,  or  so  far  as  we  might 
do  so  to  its  benefit.  We  are  responsible  for 
all  the  evil  we  do,  for  all  the  good  we  might 
do,  and  for  all  the  evil  we  might  avert,  or 
remedy.  Thus  far  I  have  treated  the  subject 
in  a  general  way.  It  may  be  useful  to  give  it 
a  more  specific  bearing. 

We  each  have  responsibilities  resting  upon 
us,  in  relation  to  the  moral  character,  the 
physical  and  social  condition,  the  usefulness 
and  happiness  of  others.  In  relation  to  each 
of  these  branches  of  responsibility  much  might 
be  said,  and  many  illustrations  might  be 
given.  I  will,  however,  direct  your  attention 
principally  to  another  point — and  that  is  one 
which  has  special  reference  to  your  civil  rela- 
tions, as  members  of  a  community  of  freemen, 
under  a  representative  government.  This  re- 
sponsibility is  centred  in,  or  related  to,  the 
elective  franchise. 

In  one  sense,  in  this  country,  the  people 
govern  themselves.  They  select,  directly  or 
indirectly,  their  legislators  and  executive  of- 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  173 

ficers.  The  people,  consequently,  are  respon- 
sible for  the  laws  which  are  enacted,  and  for 
the  manner  in  which  they  are  administered. 
The  whole  machinery  of  government  depends 
upon  the  wisdom  and  patriotism  of  the  electors. 
If  bad  or  defective  laws  are  enacted,  they  are 
the  work  of  the  men  whom  the  people  em- 
ployed to  legislate  for  them.  If  they  are  not 
repealed,  it  is  because  the  people's  servants 
will  not  repeal  them.  If  the  laws  which  are 
enacted  for  the  security  of  the  State  and  the 
protection  of  the  people,  are  badly  admin- 
istered, it  is  through  the  delinquency  of  the 
officers  whom  the  people  selected  for  the  pur- 
pose of  carrying  out  the  intentions  and  objects 
of  legislation — plainly,  because  the  executive 
agency  is  unfaithful  to  the  obligations  of  their 
official  oath.  The  evils,  in  some  instances, 
may  be  without  remedy  fo||the  time ;  but,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  next  election,  the  unfaith- 
ful steward  may  be  removed,  and  another  put 
into  his  place,  who  will  regard  his  pledged 
obligations  and  the  interests  of  his  constitu- 
ents. Should  those  who  exercise  the  elective 
franchise  not  use  it  for  the  removal  of  the 
grievance,  they  become  parties  to  the  social 
injustice,  and  share  in  its  responsibilities. 

A  correspondent  of  the  New- York  Observer 
give  us  the  following  timely  admonition: — 


176  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

"  There  are  already  ominous  appearances  in 
our  political  horizon.  We  have,  within  a  few 
years,  witnessed  events  which  the  founders  of 
our  political  institutions  never  apprehended. 
Dangers  thicken  around  our  happy  country. 
While  everything  is  proceeding  prosperously. 
Christians  may  be  indulged  in  their  love  of 
retirement  and  peace  ;  but  when  the  republic 
is  in  jeopardy,  it  behooves  them  to  come  out 
and  exert  their  influence  to  preserve  our  free 
institutions,  and  to  ward  off  those  evils  which 
threaten  to  mar  or  destroy  our  peace,  order, 
and  liberty." 

All  this  goes  to  set  in  a  strong  light  the 
responsibilities  of  electors.  As  you,  young 
gentlemen,  if  God  shall  preserve  your  lives, 
are  soon  to  take  upon  you  this  part  of  the 
duties  of  a  citizen  of  this  great  republic,  it 
becomes  you  to  igpnsider  how  far  you  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  enactment  of  its  laws  and 
administration  of  its  government.  You  should 
study  the  civil  polity  of  the  country,  and 
labour  to  understand  it,  and  be  prepared  to 
act  intelligently  in  sustaining  or  reforming 
it,  as  the  case  may  be,  and  in  giving  character 
to  its  administration. 

Your  responsibilities  may  not  only  exfend 
to  the  simple  act  of  casting  your  vote,  but  you 
may  find  it  possible,  and  even  important,  to 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  177 

make  your  influence  felt  in  the  primary  ar- 
rangements. You  may  have  responsibilities 
in  relation  to  the  nominations  as  well  as  the 
elections.  Often  much  depends  upon  the  pri- 
mary arrangements,  and  quite  too  often  these 
are  carved  out  by  a  small  company  of  office- 
seekers,  who  are  utterly  selfish  and  unprin- 
cipled. The  public  good  may  require  that 
they  should  be  thwarted,  and  the  object  may 
be  within  your  power.  Should  this  be  the 
case,  and  you  should  neglect  to  use  your  in- 
fluence to  that  effect,  you  will  not  have  met 
your  responsibilities,  as  an  enlightened  free- 
man should  always  do. 

I  would  be  far  from  having  you  assume  the 
character  of  a  demagogue,  or  a  brawling  poli- 
tician. There  is  scarcely  a  character  to  be 
named  for  which  1  have  the  same  amount  of 
contempt.  I  hope  you  will  always  be  honour- 
able, above-board,  and  perfectly  patriotic,  in 
all  your  political  movements.  Strive  to  dif- 
fuse light  by  all  possible  means.  Convert  as 
many  of  your  fellow-citizens  to  your  opinions 
as  you  may  by  honest  and  Christian  efforts ;  and 
run  the  miserable  demagogues  off*  the  track, 
if  you  can  do  it  fairly.  But  beware  of  the 
clap-trap  and  the  gross  assaults  upon  character 
practised  in  the  usual  political  gossip  of  our 
electioneering  campaigns. 
12 


178  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

The  following  sentiments  from  our  great 
statesman,  Daniel  Webster,  are  worthy  of 
being  well  considered.  Says  he  :  "  There  has 
been  openly  announced  a  sentiment,  which  I 
consider  as  the  very  concrete  of  false  morality, 
which  declares  that  '  all  is  fair  in  politics.' 
If  a  man  speaks  falsely,  or  calumniously  of 
his  neighbour,  and  is  reproached  for  the  of- 
fence, the  ready  excuse  is  this — it  was  in 
relation  to  public  and  political  matters  ;  1 
cherished  no  personal  ill-will  whatever  against 
that  individual,  but  quite  the  contrary  ;  I 
spoke  of  my  adversary  merely  as  a  political 
man.  In  my  opinion,  the  day  is  coming  when 
falsehood  will  stand  for  falsehood,  and  calumny 
will  be  treated  as  a  breach  of  the  command- 
ment, whether  it  be  committed  politically,  or 
in  the  concerns  of  private  life.''  Would  that 
the  day  might  come  soon.  The  idea  of  one 
code  of  morality  for  a  politician,  or  a  public 
man,  and  another  for  the  private  citizen,  is 
an  outrage  upon  all  common-sense ;  and  yet 
that  idea  seems  to  have  gained  great  credit, 
and  to  have  obtained  the  authority  of  a  canon 
in  too  many  quarters. 

Those  miserable  vampires,  who  are  always 
wonderfully  concerned  for  "  the  dear  people," 
and  seem  to  think  all  the  responsibilities  of 
the  government  rest  upon  their  shoulders,  are 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  179 

niiiversallv  patriotic,  and  loud  in  their  profes- 
sions of  "  principle/'  when  the  fact  is,  that 
the  sum  total  of  their  stimulus  to  action  re- 
solves itself  into  John  Eandolph's  "  seven  prin- 
ciples of  a  politician — the  five  loaves  and 
two  fishes/'  These  men  must  be  superseded 
in  our  political  arrangements,  or  our  govern- 
ment will  soon  be  as  corrupt  as  any  of  the 
rotten  and  oppressive  monarchies  of  the  Old 
"World.  Whatever  your  respon sibilities  may  re- 
quire of  you  in  this  matter,  meet  them  like  men. 

Next,  I  pass  to  notice  the  duties  of  a  citizen. 

The  duties  of  a  citizen  will  be  suggested  by 
what  has  been  said  of  his  responsibilities.  His, 
duties  and  responsibilities  are  correlative.  It 
is  the  duty  of  the  citizen  in  general  to  sup- 
port the  State  to  the  utmost  of  his  ability, 
and  to  contribute  to  its  stability,  wealth,  and 
prosperity. 

The  conditions  of  the  social  compact  are 
protection  on  the  one  side,  and  support  on 
the  other.  To  ask  for,  or  claim,  the  fulfil-^ 
ment  of  the  condition  on  the  part  of  society, 
without  meeting  the  conditions  on  our  part, 
would  be  unjust.  He  who  lives  in  society, 
and  avails  himself  of  its  protection,  without 
rendering  society  any  service,  is  a  mere  drone 
in  the  hive,  and  deserves  to  be  driven  into 
solitude  to  provide  for  himself,  independent 


180  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

of  the  rest  of  the  world.  He  who  refuses  to 
be  governed  by  the  civil  and  municipal  regu- 
lations of  the  community,  of  which  he  consti- 
tutes a  part,  has  no  right  to  claim  the  inter- 
ference of  the  civil  law  for  his  own  protection 
from  acts  of  violence  and  injustice.  If  the 
law  is  good  for  one,  it  is  good  for  another ;  if 
we  would  be  covered  by  its  shield,  we  must 
bow  to  its  sceptre  ;  and  if  we  would  avail  our- 
selves of  its  benefits,  we  must  bear  our  share 
of  the  expenses  of  its  support. 

1.  We  are  bound  to  pay  the  taxes  necessary 
for  the  support  of  the  government. 

This  includes  the  support  of  the  legislature, 
of  the  executive,  and  of  the  military,  or  the 
arrangements  necessary  for  the  defence  of  the 
country.  It  also  includes  all  public  improve- 
ments necessary  for  the  greater  safety  and 
prosperity  of  the  country.  Public  institutions, 
penal  and  charitable,  are  also  embraced.  It 
is  our  duty,  as  citizens,  to  bear  our  share  of 
the  public  burdens,  according  to  a  just  esti- 
mate of  our  abilities  or  means.  If  we  have  a 
greater  amount  of  property  to  be  protected 
by  law  than  another,  we  ought  to  contribute 
proportionably  more  for  the  support  of  the 
machinery  of  government.  The  divine  rule  is, 
"  Unto  whomsoever  much  is  given,  of  him  shall 
be  much  required ;  and  to  whom  men  have 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  181 

committed  much,  of  him  they  will  ask  the 
more/' 

2.  x\s  citizens  it  is,  or  will  be,  your  duty 
to  assist  in  preserving  the  purity  of  the  gov- 
ernment, and  a  just  administration  of  the  laws. 

You  have  a  duty  to  do  just  answering  to 
your  responsibilities  as  an  elector.  That  you 
may  discharge  this  duty  intelligently,  and  to 
the  benefit  of  the  State,  you  must  acquaint 
yourselves  with  the  great  issues  raised,  and 
the  character  and  qualifications  of  the  candi- 
dates for  office.  A  party  politician  is  not  a 
very  enviable  character,  for  the  reason  that 
he  is  generally  an  office-seeker,  or  in  some 
way  derives  his  support  from  a  political  party. 
He  is,  consequently,  always  under  the  sus- 
picion of  selfish  motives.  He  is  not  presumed 
to  be  stimulated  by  patriotism,  but  rather  by 
"  the  loaves  and  fishes.''  I  would,  consequent- 
ly, have  you  beware  of  dipping  deeply  into  party 
politics.  Not  that  I  would  have  you  indif- 
ferent to  the  issues  which  political  parties 
bring  before  the  country  for  its  consideration 
and  action.  There  is  occasion  for  you  to  be 
wide  awake  to  these.  Utter  indifference  in 
the  midst  of  high  political  excitement,  is  not 
always  wise,  although  it  is  quite  common  with 
vast  masses  of  our  most  staid  and  sensible 
citizens. 


182  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

A  graphic  writer  thus  presents  the  case : — 
*'  Fiery  radicalism  to-day,  and  phlegmatic  cu^ 
torn  to-morrow,  rule  the  national  mind ;  and 
neither  advances  it  in  true  experience.  The 
mass  of  the  population,  however,  take  but 
little  part,  or  even  interest,  in  this  contest  of 
influences,  vitally  as  they  may  be  concerned 
in  the  result.  For  even  in  this  free  republic, 
it  can  be  proved  by  the  poll  returns,  that  com- 
paratively few  of  the  voters  of  any  town  actu- 
ally vote ;  and  usually  the  best  and  soundest 
members  of  the  community  neglect  to  do  so, 
through  indifference  for  either  candidate,  or 
from  an  unwillingness  to  crowd  their  way 
through  the  rowdies  at  the  polls.  Nor  do 
they  take  any  measures  or  make  any  effort  to 
secure  the  nomination  of  other  candidates  for 
office,  but  allow  interested  partisans  to  pro- 
pose party  hacks  at  caucus  meetings,  and  then 
permit  these  same  expectants  of  some  of  the 
crumbs  of  the  *'  loaves  and  fishes,^'  to  vote  in 
their  patrons,  while  they  themselves  either 
cast  no  vote  at  all,  or  throw  away  their  fran- 
chise by  scattering  votes.  They  mistake  su- 
pineness  for  moderation,  and  betray  their 
country  by  being  neither  rebels  nor  tories. 
Destiny  wafts  the  ship  of  state  within  the 
monster-guarded  straits ;  and  w^hile  the  cap- 
tain with  his  adherents  insists  upon  bearding 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  183 

the  six-headed  danger  on  the  right  in  its  very 
den,  the  mate's  party  are  for  clinging  with 
pusillanimous  folly  to  the  smooth  current  on 
the  left.  The  passive  crew,  in  the  mean  time, 
neither  mutinous  to  the  vehemence  of  the 
former,  nor  insensible  to  the  caution  of  the 
latter,  steer  their  ambiguous  course  midway 
between :  but,  alas !  they  have  not  removed 
themselves  from  either  hazard ;  the  remnant 
that  Scylla's  fangs  have  not  selected,  are 
straightway  entombed  in  the  still  vortex  of 
Charybdis.  Solitary  are  the  Ulysses  that 
escape  at  last  with  their  naked  lives,  to  tell 
the  tale.'' — Freedom  of  Thouglit,  the  True  Mean : 
an  address,  by  James  Strong,  A.  M. 

Above  all  things,  never  be  the  dupe  of 
political  aspirants — never  take  your  political 
creed  upon  trust — study  the  subject,  and  think 
for  yourselves.  Undue  deference  is  the  nour- 
ishment upon  which  political  demagogues  and 
political  aspirants  live.  This  is  the  ladder 
upon  which  ambition  and  usurpation  have 
always  ascended  to  the  heights  of  despotic 
power.  What  was  it  but  the  confidence  and 
the  adoration  of  the  people  of  France  which 
gave  Napoleon  Bonaparte  his  ascendancy,  and 
enabled  him  to  outshine  all  the  monarchs  of 
Europe — to  depose  and  crown  kings  at  pleas- 
ure ?    Political  men  need  watching — they  need 


184  MANLY  CHARACTEK. 

to  feel  their  responsibility  to  the  people,  and 
to  understand  fully  that  their  supporters  are 
not  so  stupidly  blind  as  to  be  incapable  of 
seeing  their  aberrations,  nor  so  devoted  to 
party  interests  as  to  support  them,  right  or 
wrong.  When  you  become  afraid  to  abandon 
a  faithless  public  servant,  or  can  so  far  have 
forgotten  your  duty  to  the  country  at  large 
as  to  cleave  to  and  support  a  party  in  meas- 
ures which  you  know  to  be  injurious  to  the 
body  politic,  or  only  beneficial  to  a  section  of 
it,  you  have  already  become  recreant  to  your 
duty.  A  broad,  liberal,  patriotic  platform  is 
only  worthy  of  an  American  citizen.  No  lim- 
ited, local,  sectional,  partisan  feeling,  should 
enter  into  the  composition  of  his  political  char- 
acter, or  the  formation  of  his  political  creed. 
Your  maxim  should  be :  Our  country,  our 
whole  country,  one  and  inseparable. 

3.  As  citizens,  you  will  be  called  upon  for 
your  contributions  to  the  common  stock  of 
useful  knowledge,  and  the  means  of  enlighten- 
ing the  public  mind. 

You  have  no  right  to  dwarf  your  own 
intellectual  powers,  or  to  withhold  from 
the  community  your  best  efforts  to  spread 
useful  information.  Your  mind  must  be 
well  stored  with  practical  wisdom,  and  you 
must    be    prepared,    on    all    suitable    occa- 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  185 

sions  and  in  all  proper  modes,  to  communi- 
cate it  to  others.  If  you  choose  a  profession, 
your  line  of  duty,  in  this  respect,  will  he 
marked  out  with  tolerable  distinctness.  If 
you  hecome  a  man  of  business,  still  you  have 
your  sphere,  and  are  by  no  means  without 
opportunities  to  shed  light  upon  the  masses 
with  which  you  mingle.  Whatever  you  can 
do  to  enlighten,  and  so  to  elevate  individuals 
or  masses,  it  is  your  hounden  duty  to  do.  It 
is  a  contribution  to  the  interests  of  society, 
which  you  cannot  withhold  without  becoming 
guilty  of  social  injustice. 

You  will  find  many  avenues  of  usefulness 
open  before  you.  You  should  exert  an  influ- 
ence over  the  common  schools  of  your  county, 
town,  or  district,  as  the  case  may  be.  Assist  in 
establishing  libraries  for  popular  use.  Support 
lectures,  which  have  for  their  object  general 
information  upon  subjects  of  practical  interest. 
Help  in  organizing  literary  societies,  or  ly- 
ceums,  debating  societies,  and  in  all  other 
movements  which  will  promote  inquiry,  and 
inform  and  elevate  the  minds  of  all  classes. 

4.  Finally,  it  will  become  your  duty  as  a 
citizen,  to  contribute  to  the  public  morality. 

The  strength  and  social  happiness  of  a 
State  depend  upon  its  mm^ality ;  consequently, 
he  who   demoralizes   the  community,  is  an 


186  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

enemy  and  a  curse  in  its  midst.  A  foreign 
force  may  be  powerless,  but  a  traitor  is 
mighty  for  evil.  Many  States  have  success- 
fully repelled  all  foreign  aggression,  and  have 
finally  fallen  by  treachery.  "  One  sinner  de- 
stroyeth  much  good.''  A  mortified  limb  en- 
dangers the  whole  body.  An  evil  worker  in 
society,  is  a  firebrand  among  combustibles. 

A  method  of  promoting  the  morals  of  the 
community,  within  the  reach  of  all,  is  by 
example.  Society  has  a  demand  upon  all  its 
members  for  a  wholesome,  moral  example. 
Your  words,  spirit,  and  bearing — your  man- 
ners and  habits — will  make  an  impression  just 
so  far  as  you  are  observed,  and  as  you  exert 
an  influence.  If  your  morals  are  bad,  your 
contact  is  more  dangerous  than  the  plague. 
Never  fall  into  the  egregious  error  of  sup- 
posing that  you  pass  on  through  the  world 
without  being  noticed,  or  influencing  the  char- 
acter and  habits  of  others.  You  are  making 
an  impression  every  day,  which  is  moulding 
the  character  and  fixing  the  fate  of  other  im- 
mortal beings.  For  this  influence  you  are 
responsible  to  God  and  to  the  world.  The 
love  of  God,  and  the  best  interests  of  the 
community,  require  that  your  example  should 
be  salutary — should  promote  the  public  morab 
and  the  general  happiness. 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  187  ..^ 

--^  / 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  good  citizen  to  do  /^ 
nothing  that  would  be  a  snare  to  others,  how- 
ever innocent  in  itself,  unless  it  is  an  obvious 
and  imperative  duty.  Supposing  it  were  a 
fact,  beyond  doubt,  that  you  could  indulge 
in  the  moderate  use  of  intoxicating  drinks, 
without  the  danger  of  becoming  an  inebriate  ; 
still,  if  your  example  would  induce  others  to 
indulge  in  the  moderate  use  of  the  article, 
and  they,  in  all  probability,  would  become 
drunkards,  it  would  be  your  duty  to  abstain 
from  intoxicating  drinks  as  a  beverage  alto- 
gether, for  the-  sake  of  those  who  would  be 
endangered  by  your  example. 

It  will  be  your  duty  to  uphold  moral  and 
religious  institutions,  as  the  most  certain  sup- 
ports of  the  State,  and  the  most  effectual 
means  of  promoting  the  general  welfare.  How 
would  that  citizen  be  regarded,  who  should 
be  in  favour  of  demolishing  the  churches,  dis- 
solving the  missionary  and  Bible  societies,  and 
suppressing  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  and 
all  public  worship  ?  No  one  would  consider 
him  a  true  patriot.  It  would  at  once  be  said 
by  ten  thousand,  who  are  not  Church  mem- 
bers, that  all  history  proclaims  the  truth,  that 
a  State  without  religion  falls  and  crumbles 
by  its  own  weight.  No  true  lover  of  his  coun- 
try would  wish  our  glorious  Sabbath-school 


188  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

institution  abolished,  and  the  children,  on  the 
Lord's  day,  scattered  abroad,  running  in  the 
streets,  or  over  the  fields,  like  the  wild  deei 
of  the  mountain. 

As  good  citizens  you  will  aid  all  these  insti- 
tutions. You  will  consider  society  more  happy, 
your  own  rights,  and  those  of  all  others,  more 
safe,  in  proportion  as  these  institutions  are 
well  sustained,  and  exert  an  influence  upon  the 
public  mind  and  heart.  You  will,  conse- 
quently, see  it  to  be  si  patriotic  and  social  duty 
to  give  your  means,  your  influence,  and  your 
personal  efforts,  to  build  churches,  to  circulate 
the  Bible,  to  support  preaching  and  public 
worship,  and  to  sustain  Sabbath  schools,  mis- 
sionary and  tract  societies.  As  a  matter  of 
course,  you  will  feel  it  your  duty,  as  a  good 
citizen,  to  bear  a  faithful  testimony  against 
all  public  immoralities,  and  all  demoralizing 
institutions,  exhibitions,  and  practices  what- 
soever. You  will  sustain  the  municipal  au- 
thorities and  the  police  in  all  proper  efforts  to 
restrain  vice  and  to  promote  the  public  morals. 
You  will  do  all  this  without  fear  or  favour,  or 
your  citizenship  will  be  '^  a  price  put  into  a 
fool's  hands  to  improve,"  who  "  has  no  heart 
to  it."  You  will  fail  to  do  your  duty  to  so- 
ciety, to  your  country,  and  to  your  God,  when- 
ever you  come  before  the  fickle  multitude,  and 


CIVIL  MANHOOD.  189 

are  driven  from  your  position  as  a  supporter 
of  moral  order.  The  citizen,  as  well  as  the 
Church  member  and  the  minister  of  the  gos- 
pel, is  awfully  responsible  for  the  morals  of 
the  community. 

Lax  morals  in  high  places,  in  men  of  edu- 
cation and  wealth,  in  officers  of  the  govern- 
ment, in  our  professional  men,  are  a  most 
fearful  evil.  Especially  for  men  who  are  sworn 
to  keep  the  peace  and  defend  the  law,  to  per- 
mit both  to  be  broken  in  their  presence,  is  a 
monstrous  scandal  in  a  professedly  Christian 
community.  A  portion  of  the  responsibility, 
in  all  such  cases,  rests  upon  the  private  citi- 
zen, and  cannot  be  shaken  off. 

In  all  these  respects  do  your  duty  as  a  good 
citizen,  and  as  such  you  w^ill  be  respected  and 
happy.  To  be  a  full-grown  man  among  your 
peers,  young  gentlemen,  is  a  thing  entirely 
within  your  reach.  Those  who  run  for  it,  will 
reach  the  goal. 


190  MANLY  CHARACTER. 


VIIL-MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD. 

«'  WHEREWITH  SHALL  A  YOUNG  MAN  CLEANSE  HIS  WAY  ?     BY  TAK- 
ING HEED  THERETO  ACCORDING  TO  THY  WORD." — PSA.  CXIX,  9. 

We  now  have  arrived  at  that  point  in  our 
general  subject,  which  relates  especially  to 
morals.  I  purpose  to  embrace  in  the  discus- 
sion, the  important  principles  and  features  of 
internal  and  external  religion,  or  moral  man- 
hood, as  it  relates  to  the  heart  and  life.  In 
the  present  lecture,  I  shall  invite  your  atten- 
tion to  the  internal  qualities  of  a  moral,  or  a 
religious  man. 

The  first  of  these  qualities  which  will  be 
noticed  on  this  occasion,  is  an  enlightened,  a 
purified,  and  a  well-trained  conscience. 

Conscience  is  defined  by  Dr.  Way  land  to 
be  a  discriminating  and  an  impulsive  faculty 
of  the  soul.  It  judges  of  the  right,  and  im- 
pels to  it.  It  does  this  when  it  is  not  blinded 
or  prevented  by  ignorance,  by  prejudice,  or 
by  passion.  This  faculty  of  the  soul  suffers, 
as  do  all  our  moral  powers,  by  the  workings 
of  our  native  depravity,  and  the  influences  of 
education  and  habit.  It  often  becomes  so 
sadly  perverted,  as  to  call  evil  good,  and  good 
evil — darkness  light,  and  light  darkness.     It 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS -MANHOOD.        191 

is  the  work  of  religion  to  educate  the  con- 
science, and  save  it  from  the  perverting  influ- 
ences to  which  it  is  subject,  and  even  to 
"purge"  it  "from  dead  works  to  serve  the 
living  God.'^  Heb.  ix,  14. 

The  enlightenment  of  the  conscience  is  noth- 
ing more  nor  less  than  such  a  degree  of  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  our  relations  to  him, 
as  will  fix  in  the  soul  a  conviction  of  moral 
obligation,  and  enable  the  judgment  to  dis- 
criminate between  what  is  required  and  what 
is  forbidden.  This  light  is  ordinarily  com- 
municated through  the  medium  of  the  Scrip- 
tures and  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  ren- 
dered effective  bj  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

The  mind  of  man  is  naturally  dark.  "  The 
natural  man  receive th  not  the  things  of  the 
Spirit  of  God ;  for  they  are  foolishness  unto 
him  ;  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they 
are  spiritually  discerned.'^  1  Cor.  ii,  14.  Hu- 
man philosophy  could  never  enlighten  the 
conscience;  for  the  very  idea  of  a  conscience 
supposes  the  ideas  of  God  and  the  divine  law. 
A  revelation  only  could  give  to  man  a  knowl- 
edge of  his  true  relations  to  God,  and  of  the 
duties  growing  out  of  them.  The  consciences 
of  the  heathen  are  the  result  of  a  dim  shadow- 
ing forth  of  the  "  eternal  power  and  Godhead," 


192  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

from  original  revelations,  and  the  operations 
of  the  Spirit  on  their  hearts.  Without  these, 
"  the  invisible  things  of  him  from  the  cre- 
ation ''  would  not  have  suggested  the  idea  of 
moral  obligation  ;  and  without  the  idea  of  a  di- 
vine lawgiver,  a  law,  and  moral  obligation,  the 
idea  of  conscience  could  never  have  existed, 
because  conscience  passes  judgment  upon  our 
conduct  in  reference  to  a  standard  of  moral 
obligations. 

That  you  may  have  an  enlightened  con- 
science, you  must  take  in  the  rays  of  spiritual 
light  which  come  from  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness. Study  the  divine  rule  with  great  dili- 
gence and  impartiality.  Apply  its  require- 
ments to  your  own  heart  and  life.  Let  the 
light  of  the  word  enter  the  darkness  of  your 
understanding.  It  is  "  quick  and  powerful, 
sharper  than  a  two-edged  sword,  and  is  a  dis- 
cerner — tcQcrcfcdg,  a  critic — of  the  thoughts  and 
intents  of  the  heart.^^  Heb.  iv,  12.  If  per- 
mitted, it  will  enter  every  chink  of  the  soul, 
shine  into  its  darkest  corners,  and  criticise  all 
its  motions  and  aspirations. 

It  will  also  be  necessary  to  improve  the  light 
reflected  by  the  word  upon  the  understanding 
and  heart.  The  power  of  the  soul  to  discern 
good  and  evil,  and  to  be  moved  by  the  im- 
pulsions of  conscience,  will  much  depend  upon 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        193 

its  exercise.  Light  unimproved,  soon  goes  out 
in  darkness.  "And  if  the  light  that  is  in 
you  he  darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness  !" 
The  conscience,  like  all  other  powers  and  func- 
tions of  human  nature,  to  operate  efficiently, 
must  he  exercised.  We  must  accustom  our- 
selves to  moral  distinctions,  must  cultivate 
our  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  until  conscience 
hecomes  quick-sighted  and  accurate  in  all  its 
judgments. 

Conscience  requires  education.  It  is  im- 
perfect, and  consequently  uncertain  in  its 
monitions,  until  it  has  heen  trained  and  exer- 
cised in  its  appropriate  work.  Eight  decis- 
ions will  finally  hecome  matters  of  hahit,  and 
constitute  the  rule  instead  of  the  exception. 
AH  possible  means  must  he  used  to  bring  this 
divine  light  in  the  soul  to  a  proper  pitch  of 
intensity.  The  moral  standard  of  the  con- 
science must  be  raised  to  the  high  point  of 
moral  distinction  occupied  by  God^s  holy  law. 
This  result  cannot  be  achieved  by  the  mere 
unaided  efforts  of  man.  It  is  only  when 
human  weakness  is  aided  by  the  divine  Spirit, 
that  the  moral  sense  can  be  brought  to  this 
state  of  perfection.  Diligent  use  of  all  the 
spiritual  gifts  which  God  has  imparted  to  us, 
and  the  aid  which  he  will  impart  in  answer 
to  prayer,  will  constitute  the  conscience  truly 
13 


194  MANLY  CIIAKACTER. 

"  the  voice  of  God  in  man" — or  "  God's  vice- 
gerent on  earth." 

A  conscience  thus  educated,  or  disciplined, 
will  be  tender  or  sensitive.  A  feeling  conscience 
is  what  you  want — not  one  that  has  become 
callous.  It  may,  by  some,  be  thought  desirable 
to  have  a  conscience  that  gives  us  but  little 
trouble,  one  that  can  endure  a  vast  pressure 
without  crying  out,  that  can  suffer  terrible 
friction  without  feeling  it.  But  from  such  a 
conscience,  my  young  friends,  you  have  as 
much  reason  to  pray  to  be  delivered,  as  you 
have  from  hell  itself,  for  it  is  the  certain  pre- 
cursor of  final  and  eternal  ruin.  An  indurated 
conscience  is  the  certain  proof  of  divine  aban- 
donment, and  of  a  near  approach  to  perdition. 
A  sore  conscience  is  far  better  than  one  hard- 
ened by  the  deceitfulness  of  sin  ;  a  conscience 
too  sensitive,  is  preferable  to  one  that  has 
no  sensibility — the  one  may  be  trouhlesomey 
but  the  other  is  fatal 

Now,  young  gentlemen,  may  I  appeal  to 
your  experience,  in  relation  to  the  present 
condition  of  your  moral  feelings  and  judg- 
ments, in  comparison  with  what  they  once 
were?  Once  you  felt  compunction  when  you 
departed  but  slightly  from  the  counsels  of 
your  parents,  and  disregarded  the  early  con- 
victions of  childhood.      How  is  it  witli  you 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        195 

now  ?  Your  feet  have  slipped  often,  and  if 
you  have  not  been  careful  to  recover  your 
position  by  repentance,  and  seeking  pardon  at 
"  the  throne  of  grace,^'  you  have  been  gradu- 
ally, and  perhaps  imperceptibly,  gliding  down 
the  steep,  until  you  have  become  delirious, 
and  begin  at  length  to  hope  for  safety  in  some 
Avay,  without  the  toil  of  retracing  your  steps, 
and  gaining  the  ascent  above  you.  Your  con- 
science has  been  buffeted  and  mocked,  until 
it  has  little  power.  It  has  been  abandoned 
to  passion  and  selfishness,  until  it  is  stultified. 
Deeds  which  once  caused  you  much  pain  and 
shame,  are  now  enacted  with  little  or  no  re- 
morse, preceded  by  cool  calculation,  and  fol- 
lowed by  utter  indifference  as  to  the  conse- 
quences. This,  I  fear,  is  an  accurate  account 
of  the  experience  of  some  of  you — I  could 
hope  not  many — and  is  fearfully  ominous  of 
a  most  fatal  catastrophe.  For  it  is  said  in  the 
good  Book :  "  He  that,  being  often  reproved, 
hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroy- 
ed, and  that  without  remedy." 

God  sometimes  awakens  the  sleepy  con- 
science of  the  sinner,  and  gives  him  a  foretaste 
of  what  he  will  feel  in  the  future  world.  The 
following  most  graphic  view  is  from  Coleridge : 
— '*  How  deeply  seated  the  conscience  is  in 
the  human  soul,  is  seen  in  the  effect  which 


196  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

sudden  calamities  produce  on  guilty  men, 
even  when  unaided  by  any  determinate  notion 
or  fears  of  punishment  after  death.  The 
wretched  criminal,  as  one  rudely  awaked  from 
a  long  sleep,  bewildered  with  the  new  light, 
and  half  recollecting,  half  striving  to  recol- 
lect a  fearful  something,  he  knows  not  what, 
but  which  he  will  recognise  as  soon  as  he  hears 
the  name,  already  interprets  the  calamities 
into  judgments,  executions  of  a  sentence  pass- 
ed by  an  invisible  Judge  ;  as  if  the  vast  pyre 
of  the  last  judgment  were  already  kindled  in 
an  unknown  distance,  and  some  flashes  of  it, 
darting  forth  at  intervals  beyond  the  rest, 
were  flying  and  lighting  upon  the  face  of  his 
soul.  The  calamity  may  consist  in  loss  of 
fortune,  or  character,  or  reputation  ;  but  you 
hear  no  regrets  from  him  :  remorse  extin- 
guishes all  regret;  and  remorse  is  the  im- 
plicit creed  of  the  guilty." — Aids  to  Rejection, 
Aphorism  xlvi. 

To  those  who  have  not  yet  reached  this  fear- 
ful point  of  apostasy  from  the  "  God  of  their 
fathers,'^  but  still  continue  to  listen,  with 
more  or  less  attention,  to  the  voice  of  con- 
science, I  would  say,  with  emphasis :  Pollow 
the  dictates  of  this  inward  monitor  in  every- 
thing— tilings  small  as  ivell  as  great  He  who 
begins  to  tamper  with  his  conscience,  knows 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        197 

not  how  soon  it  may  be  abused  into  silence. 
Neglect  its  monitions  in  small  things,  and 
you  will  imperceptibly  pass  on  from  small  to 
great  offences.  The  strictest  conscientious- 
ness is  the  only  point  of  safety.  One  remove 
will  probably  be  followed  by  another,  and  an- 
other, until  all  the  barriers  between  you  and 
perdition  are  broken  down.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  longer  you  maintain  your  integrity, 
the  easier  it  is  to  do  so — the  more  firmly  you 
w^ill  find  yourselves  fixed  in  the  good  and  the 
right  way.  The  certain  and  uniform  law  is, 
that  conscience  is  strengthened  by  use,  and 
enfeebled  by  neglect.  The  following  is  from 
the  acute  mind  of  Dr.  South  : — 

*'  No  man  ever  yet  offended  his  own  con- 
science, but  first  or  last  it  was  revenged  upon 
him  for  it.  So  that  it  will  become  a  man  to 
treat  this  great  principle  carefully  and  warily, 
by  still  observing  what  it  commands,  but  spe- 
cially what  it  forbids  :  and  if  he  would  al- 
ways have  it  a  faithful  and  sincere  monitor  to 
him,  let  him  be  sure  never  to  turn  a  deaf  ear 
to  it ;  for  not  to  hear  it  is  the  way  to  silence 
it.  Let  him  strictly  observe  the  first  stirrings 
and  intimations,  the  first  hints  and  whispers 
of  good  and  evil  that  pass  in  his  heart,  and 
this  will  keep  conscience  so  quick  and  vigilant, 
and  ready  to  give  a  man  true  alarms  upon  the 


108  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

least  approach  of  his  spiritual  enemy,  that  he 
shall  be  hardly  capable  of  a  great  surprise. 

"  On  the  contrary,  if  a  man  accustoms  him- 
self to  slight  or  pass  over  these  first  motions 
to  good,  or  shrinkings  of  his  conscience  from 
evil,  conscience  will  by  degrees  grow  dull  and 
unconcerned,  and  from  not  spying  out  motes, 
come  at  length  to  overlook  beams  ;  from  care- 
lessness it  shall  fall  into  a  slumber,  and  from 
a  slumber  it  shall  settle  into  a  deep  and  long 
sleep,  till  at  last,  perhaps,  it  sleeps  itself  into 
a  lethargy,  and  that  such  a  one,  that  nothing 
but  hell  and  judgment  shall  be  able  to  awaken 
it.  For  long  disuse  of  anything  made  for 
action,  will,  in  time,  take  away  the  very  use 
of  it.  As  I  have  read  of  one,  who  having  for 
a  disguise  kept  one  of  his  eyes  a  long  time 
covered,  when  he  took  off  the  covering,  found 
his  eye  indeed  where  it  was,  but  his  sight 
was  gone.  He  who  would  keep  his  conscience 
awake,  must  be  careful  to  keep  it  stirring.^^ — 
Nature  and  Measure  of  Conscience.     Serm.  23. 

A  guilty  and  an  evil  conscience  has  no  rem- 
edy but  in  the  regenerating  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  It  is  in  vain  to  resort  alone  to 
good  resolutions,  and  try  to  make  amends  for 
the  past  by  future  watchfulness.  As  says 
Archbishop  Leighton  :  "  To  set  the  outward 
actions  rip^ht,  thoui^h  with  an  honest  in  ten- 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        199 

tion,  and  not  so  to  regard  and  find  out  the 
inward  disorder  of  the  heart,  whence  that  in 
the  actions  flows,  is  hut  to  he  still  putting  the 
index  of  a  clock  right  with  your  finger,  while 
it  is  foul  or  out  of  order  within,  which  is  a 
continual  business,  and  does  no  good.  O  !  hut 
a  purified  conscience,  a  soul  renewed  and  re- 
fined in  its  temper  and  affections,  will  make 
things  go  right  without,  in  all  the  duties  and 
acts  of  our  calling.^' 

That  a  pure  and  peaceful  conscience  is  an 
essential  element  of  happiness,  need  not  he 
proved;  it  will  be  recognised  as  a  truth  by 
you  all,  as  soon  as  it  is  uttered.  How  im- 
portant it  is  to  the  great  ends  of  human  ex- 
istence, after  what  has  been  said,  need  not  be 
discussed. 

The  next  great  element  of  religion  which  I 
shall  notice  h  faith. 

The  idea  of  religious  faith,  which  will  be 
elaborated  in  this  connexion,  may  be  stated 
as  the  reception  of  divine  truth  upon  competent 
evidence.  The  evidence  upon  which  this  species 
of  faith  rests,  must  amount  to  a  divine  revela- 
tion. It  ordinarily  comes  by  the  hearing  of 
preaching,  but  that  preaching  is  the  reitera- 
tion and  enforcement  of  truth  revealed  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  divinely  attested. 

This  faith  is  rational.     It  rests  upon  evi- 


200  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

dence  wliicli  is  tangible  and  conclusive.  Some 
degree  of  knowledge  of  tlie  facts  and  doctrines 
of  tlie  gospel  is  necessary  to  Christian  faith. 
There  may  be  saving  faith  where  this  knowl- 
edge is  very  slight,  but  this  is  only  in  cases 
where  the  means  of  know^ing  the  elements  of 
Christianity  are  few.  With  those  in  your  cir- 
cumstances it  is  an  imperative  duty,  and  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  a  strong  and  opera- 
tive faith,  that  they  should  become  acquainted 
with  the  Scriptures — with  the  facts  and  doc- 
trines which  they  teach.  A  slight  examina- 
tion of  the  Bible  w^ill  bring  home  to  your 
mind  the  fact,  that  it  records  miracles  and 
prophecies  which  must  necessarily  imply  the 
presence  of  divine  wisdom  and  power,  which, 
of  course,  gives  divine  sanction  to  the  claims 
of  the  writers,  and  the  records  of  Holy  Scrip- 
ture. 

A  careful  reading,  and  a  thorough  study 
of  the  Scriptures,  will  be  suggested  by  the 
high  claims  which  they  make,  and  will  be 
necessary  to  a  rational  and  stable  faith. 
*'  Search  the  Scriptures ;  for  in  them  ye  think 
ye  have  eternal  life,  and  they  are  they  which 
testify  of  me.''  This  mandate  and  reason  are 
as  applicable  to  you  as  they  were  to  the  Jews, 
for  whom  they  were  originally  designed  ;  and, 
at  least,  as  applicable  now  to  the  New  Testa- 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        201 

ment,  as  they  were,  when  uttered  by  our  Lord, 
to  the  Old  Scriptures.  All  experience  and 
observation  will  show  that  scepticism  is  the 
result  of  no  knowledge,  or,  at  least,  a  very 
slight  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures;  that  a 
weak  and  unavailing  faith,  or  an  utter  want 
of  it,  is  found  where  the  mind  has  been  left 
to  its  own  native  darkness  and  sterility,  with- 
out the  illuminating  and  cheering  beams  of 
inspired  truth.  Hence  the  importance  of 
a  large  acquaintance  with  the  records  of 
our  salvation,  to  an  elevated  and  rational 
faith. 

By  7*ational  faith  you  are  not  to  understand 
a  faith  which  grasps  the  mode  and  manner  of 
all  truths  which  are  believed.  It  seems  not 
to  have  been  the  object  of  divine  revelation  to 
explain  the  philosophy  of  facts  or  doctrines. 
The  revelation  simpl}^  announces  great  facts 
and  principles  without  undertaking  to  explain 
their  harmony  with  the  laws  of  nature,  or 
how  and  why  they  exist  as  they  do,  in  prefer- 
ence to  some  other  form  or  mode.  A  truth 
may  be  above  reason,  and  not  be  contrary  to  it. 
A  fact  may  be  credible  when  the  mode  of  its 
existence  is  beyond  the  grasp  of  the  human 
intellect.  That  scepticism  which  will  believe 
no  truth  of  divine  revelation,  which  in  its 
mode  of  existence  is  incomprehensible,  should 


202  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

doubt  all  tlie  phenomena  of  nature  which 
come  under  the  -same  classification. 

It  is  the  office  of  reason  to  apply  the  laws 
of  evidence  to  the  claims  of  a  revelation,  and 
the  laws  of  interpretation  to  its  language,  and 
then  to  pause  in  submission  and  listen  to  its 
utterances.  It  is  not  mere  credulity,  but  ra- 
tional faith,  to  believe  all  that  we  find  in  the 
Scriptures,  after  satisfying  ourselves  that 
these  Scriptures  are  the  word  of  God,  al- 
though we  find  many  things  there  which  we 
are  not  able  fully  to  understand.  It  is  by  no 
means  unreasonable  to  suppose  that,  in  a  book 
of  divine  revelations,  there  would  be  much 
which  would  require  study,  and  the  lapse  of 
time,  fully  to  develop  its  wealth  of  wisdom 
and  truth.  How  unreasonable  is  it  to  sup- 
pose that  a  revelation  from  God  should  con- 
tain nothing  but  such  simple  truths  as  could 
be  fathomed  by  all  minds,  of  all  ages  and 
countries,  at  a  single  glance.  It  would  be 
wholly  unlike  all  other  efforts  of  the  divine 
mind.  Nature  has  her  mysteries,  immeas- 
urable and  profound,  which  are  only  be- 
ginning to  be  developed  and  understood,  and 
yet  no  wise  man  denies  her  divine  origin, 
or  pretends  for  a  moment  to  think  her  un- 
worthy of  God. 

We  ask  you  to  believe  nothing  that  is  con- 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        203 

trary  to  reason.  In  all  matters  which  are 
level  to  the  analysis  and  comprehension  of 
reason,  you  are  to  follow  its  decisions.  The 
old  maxim  of  Tertullian,  "  Cerium  est  quia 
impossihile  est  '^ — it  is  certainly  true  because  it 
is  impossible — might  suit  the  overheated  im- 
agination of  an  ascetic,  hut  is  nonsense  with 
a  Christian  philosopher.  Nor  are  you  urged 
to  strain  your  faith  to  a  grasp  of  the  mys- 
teries of  revelation  beyond  the  mere  facts 
revealed.  Sir  Thomas  Brown  says  :  "  I  love 
to  lose  myself  in  a  mystery,  and  it  is  my  soli- 
tary recreation  to  pose  my  apprehension  with 
those  involved  enigmas  and  riddles  of  the 
Trinity  and  incarnation.''  His,  however,  was 
a  singularly  constituted  mind.  Few,  very 
few,  are  able  to  escape  unharmed  from  such 
intellectual  adventures  beyond  the  regions  of 
legitimate  philosophy.  The  whole  truth  is 
expressed  in  these  words  of  Leighton  :  "  Faith 
elevates  them  not  only  above  sense  and  sensi- 
ble things,  but  above  reason  itself  As  reason 
corrects  the  errors  which  sense  might  occa- 
sion, so  supernatural  faith  corrects  the  errors 
of  natural  reason  judging  according  to  sense." 
The  wisdom  of  this  world  subjects  everything 
to  the  test  of  natural  laws ;  but  faith,  guided 
by  divine  light  and  spiritual  influences,  goes 
far    beyond    nature,    apprehending    things 


204  MANLY   CHARACTER. 

which  are  unseen.  "  Faith  is  the  substance 
of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen.^^ 

The  next  idea  embraced  in  faith,  is  submis- 
sion. The  will  must  be  made  a  captive  bj 
the  convictions,  and  w^hatever  is  found  to  be 
imposed  or  required  in  divine  revelation,  must 
be  practically  acquiesced  in.  The  idea  here 
presented  is  illustrated  by  the  contrary  course 
taken  by  the  unbelieving  Jews.  St.  Paul 
says :  "  For  they,  being  ignorant  of  God's 
righteousness,  and  going  about  to  establish 
their  own  righteousness,  have  not  submitted 
themselves  unto  the  righteousness  of  God.'' 
Eom.  X,  3.  They  hardened  their  hearts  against 
the  convictions  of  the  truth,  and  would  not 
submit  themselves  to  the  righteousness  of  God 
— that  is,  to  the  gospel  method  of  salvation. 

Christian  faith  is  not  a  mere  intellection — 
it  has  much  to  do  with  the  heart.  St.  Paul 
puts  the  language  of  faith  thus:  "If  thou 
shalt  confess  with  thy  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  shalt  believe  in  thy  heart  that  God  hath 
raised  him  from  the  dead,  thou  shalt  be  saved. 
For  with  the  heart  man  belie veth  unto  right- 
eousness ;  and  with  the  mouth  confession  is 
made  unto  salvation."  Eom.  x,  9, 10.  The  con- 
dition of  the  affections  has  more  to  do  with 
faith  and  unbelief,  than  is  generally  supposed. 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        205 

Unbelievers  usually  plead  the  want  of  light 
or  evidence ;  whereas  the  main  barrier  in  the 
way  of  their  believing,  is  a  bad  state  of  heart 
— they  are,  at  heart,  opposed  to  the  gospel, 
and  will  not  submit  to  its  terms,  and,  conse- 
quently, they  try  to  furnish  themselves  with 
reasons  for  rejecting  it.  Christ  says  :  "If  any 
man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine,  whether  it  be  of  God,  or  whether  I 
speak  of  myself.'^  John  vii,  17.  Practical  in- 
fidelity is  the  fruit  of  ^  bad  heart,  and  not  of 
a  deficiency  of  evidence.  Those  who  consider 
faith  the  mere  and  the  necessary  result  of 
evidence,  do  not  understand  its  true  nature. 
I  speak  now,  not  of  that  natural  faith  which 
credits  the  inforniation  of  the  senses  on  testi- 
mony in  relation  to  a  natural  fact ;  but  of  that 
divine  faith  which  receives  €)hrist  and  his 
cross,  the  true  evangelical  faith  which  justi- 
fies the  ungodly :  that  faith  is  not  only  the 
light  of  the  understanding,  but  the  concur- 
rence of  the  will.  It  is  a  volition,  and  a  vo- 
lition moved  by  the  power  of  the  Spirit  and 
the  love  of  Christ.  It  is  a  moral  exercise, 
and,  consequently,  a  rewardable  virtue,  and 
not  the  mere  accident  of  a  certain  arrange- 
ment of  circumstances  :  so  that  the  declaration 
of  Christ :  "  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved  ; 
and  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned," 


200  MANLY  CIIAEACTER. 

is  every  way  consistent  witli  reason  and  jus- 
tice. It  is  when  the  process  of  faith  reaches 
the  affections  and  the  will,  that  the  sinner 
pauses  and  ohjects.  A  formal  consent  to  the 
theoretical  truths  of  the  gospel  is  compara- 
tively easy,  and  most  persons  who  have  had 
a  Christian  education  go  so  far  as  this.  To 
submit  to  tlie  way  of  salvation  hy  grace  alone, 
to  take  up  the  cross  and  follow  Christ,  is 
quite  another  thing.  Here  the  pride  of  the 
human  heart  rebels,  and  all  its  depravity 
offers  a  stout  resistance.  Now  the  heart  must 
be  broken  with  a  sense  of  tlie  evil  of  sin,  and 
feel  its  own  absolute  wretchedness  and  help- 
lessness, before  it  will  bow  to  the  easy  yoke 
of  Christ.  It  will  go  about  to  establish  its 
own  righteousness,  until  it  becomes  utterly 
self-despairing,*  and  gives  up  all  other  pleas 
but  the  meritorious  death  of  Christ  as  the 
ground  of  acceptance.  Then,  and  then  only, 
will  it  "  submit  itself  to  the  righteousness  of 
God.'^ 

This  faith  implies  confidence,  or  trust  It 
rests  upon  the  truth  of  God.  Confiding  faith 
is  more  than  a  pure  idea — it  supposes  an  in- 
terest intrusted,  something  of  personal  value 
thrown  into  the  keeping  of  God.  St.  Paul 
says  of  Abraham,  that  he  was  "  fully  per- 
suaded that  what  God  had  promised  he  was 


MORAL  AND  EELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        207 

able  also  to  perform/'  Eom.  iv,  21.  He  liad 
confidence  in  the  promise  of  God ;  he  rested 
unwaveringly  in  his  truth.  It  is  no  small 
matter  to  confide  fully  in  tlie  truth  of  God's 
promises  in  relation  to  ourselves — it  requires 
a  towering  faith.  This  trust  will  apply  espe- 
cially to  the  divine  promises,  but  not  to  them 
alone.  It  embraces  all  that  God  has  said — 
the  truth  of  his  revelations.  It  not  only  em- 
braces that  which,  to  human  reason,  is  proba- 
ble, but  that  which  is  against  all  human 
probability.  Such  was  the  faith  of  Abraham, 
that  a  son  should  be  born  to  him  in  his  old 
age :  and  also  that  God  would,  in  some  way, 
fulfil  his  promise,  that  '*  in  Isaac  his  seed 
should  be  called,''  and  that  Sarah  should  be 
*'  the  mother  of  a  multitude  of  nations,"  when 
he  was  required  to  offer  up  Isaac  as  a  sacri- 
fice upon  one  of  the  mountains  of  Moriah. 
There  seemed  a  plain  contradiction  between 
the  promise  and  the  requirement,  and  yet  the 
strong  faith  of  Abraham  overcame  all  the 
difl[iculties  arising  from  the  apparent  discre- 
pancy, and  firmly  rested  upon  the  simple  truth 
of  Jehovah. 

The  great  importance  of  the  Christian  faith 
which  I  have  endeavoured  to  describe,  can 
scarcely  be  estimated — it  lies  at  the  founda- 
tion of  morals.     Indeed,  we  can  have  no  ra- 


208  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

tional  idea  of  moral  feelings  without  faith  in 
God :  and  how  there  can  be  laid  a  broad  and 
firm  foundation  for  the  superstructure  of 
moral  character,  without  this  specific  evan- 
gelical faith,  we  might  challenge  any  one  to 
show.  The  beauties  of  virtue — the  health, 
wealth,  and  social  happiness,  which  result  from 
truth,  justice,  and  chastity,  have  never  yet 
been  sufficient  to  induce  men  generally  to 
conform  to  these  great  moral  principles.  Faith 
in  the  existence  and  government  of  God,  in 
the  mediatorial  scheme,  and  in  a  future  retri- 
bution, has  been  found  the  only  solid  basis  of 
morals. 

This  faith  is  equally  the  foundation  of  hoj^e 
and  the  spring  of  action.  Where  are  there  any 
stable  grounds  of  hope  for  the  future,  or  any 
adequate  motive  for  painful,  persevering  toil 
to  better  our  condition,  or  the  moral  condition 
of  the  world  around  us,  but  in  faith — the  faith 
that  brings  us  to  Christ — that  justifies,  sanc- 
tifies, and  saves  forever  ?  It  Avould  be  easy  to 
show  that  all  other  sources  of  encouragement, 
hope,  and  happiness,  are  utterly  worthless. 
He  who  depends  upon  them,  builds  upon  the 
sand,  and,  with  his  superstructure,  will  be 
swept  away  by  the  flood. 

Need  I  urge  upon  you,  young  gentlemen, 
the  importance  of  this  faith,  to  your  safety 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        209 

and  happiness,  botli  in  this  world  and  the 
world  to  come?  Perhaps  you  are  just  begin- 
ning to  feel  the  cords  of  parental  authority 
loosening,  and  you  realize  that  soon  you  will 
assume  the  responsibilities  of  manhood.  May- 
be you  have  just  entered  upon  this  state,  and 
find  yourself  all  at  once,  in  a  sense,  your  own 
man.  What  now,  if  your  faith  gives  way, 
and  you  make  shipwreck  both  of  it  and  a 
good  conscience?  Or  what,  if  you  only  be- 
come partially  sceptical,  with  regard  to  the 
principles  of  that  religion  which  was  early  in- 
stilled into  your  mind,  which  you  drew  in 
almost  with  your  mother's  milk?  What,  I 
ask  with  deep  concern,  will  become  of  you, 
when  parental  restraint  is  removed,  and  you, 
as  yet,  have  not  become  acquainted  with  all 
the  wiles  of  the  devil,  or  the  snares  of  this 
wicked  world,  if  your  faith  in  the  verities  of 
revelation  and  in  the  obligations  of  religion 
have  lost  its  power  over  you  ?  Your  passions 
arc  warm,  your  youthful  blood  courses  quickly 
through  your  veins,  the  flesh  clamours  for 
gratification,  the  world  flatters,  and  the  enemy 
of  your  souls  tempts  you ;  and  if  your  faith 
now  gives  way,  who,  or  what,  shall  save  you  ? 
O  listen  not  for  one  moment  to  the  suggestion 
that  religion  is  a  mere  fancy,  and  the  Bible  a 
cunningly-devised  fable.  Turn  aside  from  the 
u 


210  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

seducer,  and  draw  near  to  the  God,  the  Bible, 
the  religion  of  your  fathers. 

"  A  strong  habitual  faith  in  the  Bible,  in 
God,  in  Christ,  in  providence,  in  judgment, 
in  heaven  and  hell.  Faith  not  only  expresses 
itself  in  worship,  in  religious  emotions,  in 
zeal,  in  alms-deeds,  but  in  enlightened  and 
tender  conscientiousness  both  towards  God  and 
man,  and  in  a  systematic  and  strong  restraint 
upon  the  passions,  fancy,  temper,  and  appe- 
tites.'^— James. 

The  last  great  element  of  inward  religion, 
to  which  I  shall  invite  your  attention,  is  a 
thorough  renovation  of  heart 

What  has  been  said  of  a  pure  conscience 
and  an  evangelical  faith,  of  course  implies 
the  renovation  of  heart  of  which  I  am  about 
to  speak.  The  voice  of  conscience  brings  the 
sinner  to  reflection,  and  faith  secures  his  par- 
don and  acceptance,  and  a  new  creation.  The 
renovation  of  the  heart  reacts  upon  the  con- 
science and  the  faith  of  the  recipient ;  so  that 
there  is  a  reciprocal  influence  exerted  by  these 
elements  of  spiritual  life.  In  the  commence- 
ment, one  may  have  been  the  antecedent,  and 
the  other  the  sequence :  but  in  the  process 
there  is  a  mutual  dependence  of  one  upon  the 
other ;  and  one  is  aided,  furthered,  and  per- 
fected, by  the  action  and  influence  of  the  other. 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.       211 

Regeneration  is  tlie  experience  of  a  work 
of  grace  upon  the  heart,  bringing  into  sub- 
jection its  depravity,  and  shedding  abroad  tho 
love  of  Christ  in  it  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  This 
spiritual  renewing  is  a  universal  want.  No 
man  ever  yet  undertook  to  reform  his  own 
life — and  who  that  has  come  to  the  years  of  ac- 
countability has  not  done  this? — without  being 
conscious  of  an  inward  current  of  wrong  feel- 
ing, that  he  was  not  able  to  resist.  He  re- 
solved, and  re-resolved,  and  yet  remained  the 
same  ;  or  rather,  waxed  worse  and  worse.  His 
vicious  tendencies  always  mastered  his  judg- 
ment. He  found  the  lines  of  Pope  a  most 
fearful  reality : — 

"  My  reason  this,  my  passions  that  persuade  : 

I  see  the  right,  and  I  approve  it  too  ; 

Condemn  the  wrong,  and  yet  the  wrong  pursue." 

He  finds  a  law  in  his  members  warring  against 
the  law  of  his  mind,  and  bringing  him  into 
captivity.  The  case  is  beautifully  and  forcibly 
illustrated  by  St.  Paul  in  the  seventh  chapter 
of  his  Epistle  to  the  Eomans. 

This  shows  the  utter  futility  of  attempting 
to  reform  one's  heart,  and  to  form  habits  of 
morality  and  religion  merely  by  repeated  ef- 
forts of  the  will.  A  thorough  change  of  heart 
througli  divine  agency,  seems  to  bo  the  only 
remedy  for  fallen  humanity.     Nicodemus  un- 


212  MANLY  CHARACTEIl. 

derstood  not  this  doctrine  of  the  new  birth, 
and  was  stumbled,  because  he  could  not  com- 
prehend the  manner  of  it.  He  was  "  a  master 
in  Israel,"  and  yet  was  so  illy  instructed  him- 
self, as  to  object  to  the  thing,  because  he  could 
not  comprehend  the  rationale,  or  the  manner 
and  philosophy  of  the  process.  Our  Saviour 
refuted  the  objection  of  the  learned  Jew,  by 
the  use  of  a  familiar  similitude,  all  of  which 
will  be  found  in  the  third  chapter  of  St.  John's 
Gospel.  There  are  many  in  these  days  as 
ignorant  of  the  doctrine  and  necessity  of  the 
new  birth  as  was  Nicodemus,  and  who  have 
need  of  the  same  kind  rebuke  and  wise  counsel. 
It  is  not  material  that  you  should  under- 
stand the  nature  of  the  whole  process,  before 
you  proceed  to  invoke  the  renovating  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  for  your  regeneration.  You 
must  indeed  know  and  feel  that  you  are  sin- 
ners, and  that  you  need  a  spiritual  renovation. 
You  must  then  feel  your  utter  helplessness, 
and  the  absolute  necessity  of  a  divine  power 
to  change  your  rebellious  nature,  and  conform 
it  to  the  divine  will.  Then  submitting  your- 
selves to  the  righteousness  of  God,  giving  God 
your  lieart,  to  be  fashioned  according  to  his 
pleasure,  by  a  decisive  act  of  self-renunciation 
and  implicit  faith,  you  may  have  no  misgiv- 
ings with  regard  to  the  result.     You  may  not 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.       213 

know,  nor  need  you  seek  to  know,  lioiv  the 
desired  change  will  affect  you,  or  what  will 
be  the  nature  of  the  evidence  by  which  it  will 
be  accomplished.  You  must  take  some  of 
these  things  upon  trust,  and  await  the  experi- 
mental Imowledge  to  bring  you  into  possession 
of  the  particular  kind  of  evidence  you  are  too 
much  disposed  to  demand  in  advance. 

When  the  regenerating  power  comes  from 
above,  you  will  feel  its  mighty  workings,  and 
will  have  an  inward  consciousness  that  your 
moral  feelings  are  all  completely  changed, 
and  you  will  feel  and  know  for  yourselves, 
that  the  hand  of  God  is  marvellously  working 
in  your  inward  nature,  and  mouldiug  and 
fashioning  all  the  fibres  of  your  soul.  When 
you  become  "  a  new  creature"  in  Christ 
Jesus,  "  old  things  will  pass  away,  and  all 
things  will  become  new.''  Your  opposition  to 
God  and  his  government  will  have  departed  ; 
the  love  of  God  will  be  shed  abroad  in  your 
heart ;  joy  and  peace  in  believing  will  fill 
your  soul ;  hope  will  cast  her  anchor  "  within 
the  vail ;''  you  will  love  the  service  of  God, 
the  people  of  God,  and  even  your  worst  ene- 
mies. The  cross  of  Christ  will  be  your  de- 
light, and  you  will  feel  that  "  the  kingdom  of 
God,''  which  is  "  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  is  set  up  in  your  heart. 


214  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

Now  tlie  lineaments  of  the  image  of  God, 
wliicli  liad  been  effaced  from  the  soul  by  sin, 
reappear,  with  more  or  less  distinctness,  and 
the  soul  is  conscious  of  its  own  moral  eleva- 
tion. Its  true  moral  dignity  and  sublimity 
are  re-enstamped  upon  it,  and  it  realizes  what 
St.  John  meant,  when  he  said:  "  Beloved,  now 
are  we  the  sons  of  God."  Here,  young  gen- 
tlemen, you  have  the  true  dignity  of  manhood. 
High  intelligence,  without  moral  character, 
receives  no  marks  of  reverence  or  respect  from 
the  heart  of  society.  It  may  command  empty 
and  interested  homage ;  but  to  what  purpose? 
All  such  outward  manifestations  are  attended 
by  secret  abhorrence  and  contempt.  What 
were  the  peerless  talents  of  Lord  Bacon,  with- 
out fidelity  to  his  high  official  trust ;  and  of 
Lord  Byron,  without  the  control  of  his  pas- 
sions, and  the  personal  purity  which  only 
sanctifies  the  social  and  domestic  relations, 
and  makes  them  even  tolerable  ?  The  fallen 
angels,  doubtless,  possess  great  intellects,  but 
their  moral  qualities  make  them  objects  of 
alarm  and  detestation.  A  gigantic  intellect 
associated  with  a  bad  heart,  may  constitute 
an  object  of  dread,  but  not  of  either  love  or 
admiration. 

*'  In  the  present  age,  one  would  imagine 
from  much  that  is  said  and  done,  that  knowl- 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.       215 

edge  were  tlie  bread  of  life  for  the  soul  hun- 
gering after  bliss,  which  would  satisfy  every 
desire — the  panacea  for  diseased  humanity 
which  would  heal  every  wound — the  crown  of 
glory  upon  our  nature — the  chief  felicity  of 
our  present  existence — and  all  we  need  for  our 
happiness  in  another  world.  It  is,  however, 
a  profound  mistake,  a  lamentable  and  fatal 
error ;  and  it  is  a  mistake  in  which  nearly  the 
whole  world  is  involved.  Education,  apart 
from  religion,  is,  it  seems,  to  do  everything 
for  man.  Ideas,  ideas,  ideas — are  all  that  is 
needed  to  renew,  reform,  and  bless  the  human 
race.  Let  but  the  species  be  admitted  to  the 
tree  of  knowledge,  and  they  will  find  nothing 
but  good  to  be  the  result.  It  is  the  darkness 
of  the  intellect  only  that  is  the  cause  of  the 
depravity  of  the  heart ;  and  only  let  in  the 
light  of  science,  and  it  will  set  all  right.  Such 
is  the  deplorable  error  of  the  moral  quacks 
of  the  age,  whose  nostrum  for  the  cure  of  all 
diseases  is  knowledge.  Deluded  men  !  They 
would  rectify  society  without  religion,  and 
govern  it  without  God.  Have  they  forgotten 
all  history,  especially  that  of  Greece  and  Eome? 
Have  they  ever  read  what  the  apostle  says : 
*  For  after  that,  in  the  wisdom  of  God,  the 
zvorld  by  ivisdom  knew  not  God,  it  pleased  God 
by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them 


216  MANLY  CHABACTER. 

that  believe.'  1  Cor.  i,  21.  It  is  something 
for  his  moral  nature  man  needs  for  his  happi- 
ness ;  and  you  may  as  well  offer  science  to  a 
man  whose  limbs  are  dislocated,  or  whose  flesh 
is  corroding  by  disease,  to  give  him  health 
and  enjoyment,  as  to  an  unholy  soul,  when 
you  offer  it  nothing  else,  to  give  it  holiness, 
ease,  and  contentment." — James, 

A  character  made  up  of  an  enlightened  and 
pure  conscience,  an  educated  and  strong  faith, 
and  a  regenerated  nature,  with  all  the  fruits 
which  result  from  these  inward  springs  of 
morality,  is  one  of  the  most  sublime  and  glo- 
rious objects  in  the  universe  of  God.  This  is 
the  highest  style  of  manhood.  Of  the  out- 
ward manifestations  of  the  life  of  Christianity, 
I  shall  speak  hereafter.  Let  me  now  fix  upon 
your  minds  the  doctrine,  so  strenuously  en- 
forced by  our  Lord,  that  the  tree  must  first 
be  made  good,  that  its  fruit  may  be  good  ; 
that  the  fountain  must  be  cleansed,  that  the 
stream  may  be  pure.  It  is  of  the  inward  reno- 
vation that  I  am  now  speaking,  and  upon  which 
I  must  insist  with  emphasis. 

Dear  young  friends,  do  not  for  a  moment 
suppose  that  it  will  degrade  or  belittle  you 
to  bow  before  your  God  as  penitents,  and 
make  the  surrender  of  yourselves  to  him.  He 
says:   "  My  son,  give  me   thy  heart ;" — will 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.       217 

you  not  yield  to  so  reasonable  a  requirement  ? 
I  despair  of  your  ever  building  up  a  moral 
and  religious  character  upon  any  other  basis 
than  that  of  a  powerful  and  thorough  conver- 
sion to  God.  This  will  set  you  upon  high 
and  vantage  ground  in  all  respects.  This 
will  bring  with  it  the  true  dignity  of  man- 
hood— manhood  in  its  highest  and  best  estate. 


218  MANLY  CHARACTER. 


IX.-MOKAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MAKHOOD-CON- 
TfflUED. 

"l  HAVE  WEITTESr  UNTO  YOU,  YOUNG  MEN,  BECAUSE  YE  ARE 
STRONG,  AND  THE  WORD  OF  GOD  ABIDETH  IN  YOU,  AND  YE 
HAVE   OVERCOME  THE  WICKED  ONE." — 1  JOHN  H,  14. 

In  this  lecture  I  shall  consider  the  nature 
and  importance  of  practical  religion. 

The  religion  of  the  New  Testament  is  not 
a  mere  sentiment — it  is  designed  to  be  carried 
out  into  active  life,  and  to  become  a  social 
blessing.  If  it  were  wholly  a  thing  of  the 
heart,  it  would  be  a  matter  of  no  public  in- 
terest, and  no  man  would  have  a  right  to 
concern  himself  about  your  religion,  only  so 
far  as  he  might  feel  an  interest  in  your  per- 
sonal well-being.  As  it  is  a  matter  of  public 
interest,  it  is  fitting  for  all  to  be  anxious  that 
you  iflay  form  a  religious  character.  What 
that  character  implies,  so  far  as  the  mind  and 
heart  are  concerned,  we  have  seen  in  the  pre- 
ceding lecture.  Now  we  proceed  to  inquire, 
how  it  should  affect  the  outward  expression, 
or  the  course  of  life,  as  it  assumes  a  public 
character. 

In  the  first  place,  I  urge  that  an  experi- 
mental knowledge  of  Christ  naturally  leads 
to  an  outward  profession  of  religion. 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.       219 

The  profession  is  ordinarily  made  "by  uniting 
with  some  accredited  branch  of  the  Church  of 
Christ.  The  Church  of  Christ  is  a  divine  in- 
stitution, composed  of  the  collective  body  of 
believers.  The  ordinary  mode  of  holding  com- 
munion with  the  Church,  and  enjoying  its 
fellowship,  is  by  a  formal  connexion  with 
some  one  of  its  living  branches,  and  submit- 
ting to  its  instructions  and  discipline.  Ordi- 
narily, I  believe  it  to  be  the  duty  of  every 
Christian  to  be  a  member  of  the  visible  Church. 
What  branch  of  that  Church  he  shall  attach 
himself  to,  is  for  him  to  determine,  and  his 
choice  should  be  directed  by  the  ends  contem- 
plated in  Church  association.  The  following 
are  some  of  the  reasons  for  which  I  would 
urge  all  of  you,  who  are  seriously  striving  to 
flee  the  wrath  to  come  and  secure  eternal 
life,  to  unite  with  some  Church. 

It  will  fully  commit  you,  before  the  world, 
to  the  cause  of  religion. 

It  is  generally  a  great  safeguard  to  our 
principles  and  course  of  action,  to  feel  that 
we  are  committed,  and  that  the  public  expect 
us  to  act  consistently  with  our  known  princi- 
ples and  our  professions.  This  will  result 
from  a  decent  respect  for  ourselves  and  for 
the  opinions  of  mankind.  Every  man  has  a 
character.     That  character  consists  jn  the 


^^r"^^ 


220  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

estimate  in  which  he  is  held — what  he  passes 
for — and  is  made  up  of  habitudes  formed  by 
a  series  of  actions. 

A  religious  character,  made  up  of  religious 
habits,  which  are  known  and  read  of  all  men, 
will  form  the  basis  of  the  estimate  which  will 
be  placed  upon  you  as  a  Christian.  An  amount 
of  fruit  will  be  expected  from  you,  precisely 
in  proportion  to  the  character  which  you  will 
have  formed,  and  resting  upon  an  implied 
pledge  you  have  made,  and  which  you  feel  to 
be  binding.  Under  these  circumstances  you 
will  feel  your  honour  as  a  man,  and  your 
fidelity  as  a  Christian,  most  sacredly  bound 
to  the  life  and  duties  of  Christianity.  A  con- 
stant sense  of  this  obligation,  and  of  the  public 
expectation  founded  upon  it,  will  be  found  a 
strong  bulwark  of  defence  in  hours  of  peril. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  prove  that  a  pub- 
lic profession  of  religion,  and  an  attendance 
upon  the  ordinances  of  God^s  house,  are  neces- 
sary to  a  religious  character.  It  is  too  evi- 
dent to  be  disputed.  It  is  the  starting-point 
of  a  public  religious  life.  It  forms  the  basis, 
or  goes  far  towards  it,  of  the  public  expecta- 
tion that  you  will  live  the  life  of  a  Christian. 
Yoa  need  this  formal  public  commitment  to 
the  cause  of  religion  as  a  stimulant  and  a 
safeguard.     If  you  undertake  to  be  religious 


MORAL  AND  KELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        22  J. 

in  a  private  way,  so  that  you  can  give  up  the 
object  without  public  disgrace,  you  will  cer- 
tainly fail.  This  would  indicate  that  you  had 
not  fully  made  up  your  mind  whether  to  fight 
or  fly  in  the  hour  of  danger.  Such  a  soldier 
would  be  sure  to  come  out  a  coward.  You 
should  not  only  make  no  provision  for  a  re- 
treat, but  you  should  provide  against  it — you 
should  do  all  you  can  to  make  retreat  impos- 
sible. Like  the  famous  conquerors,  of  which 
history  informs  us,  who  when  they  reached  the 
enemy^s  shores,  burned  their  fleets,  and  as  they 
passed  on  into  the  interior,  broke  down  the 
bridges,  you  should  do  everything  in  your 
power  to  obstruct  the  way  of  a  return  to  your 
former  course  of  life.  One  method  of  doing 
this,  and  one  under  all  ordinary  circum- 
stances absolutely  essential,  is  taking  upon 
you  the  vows  of  Christ  before  the  world,  and 
uniting  yourself  with  the  Church.  Your  young 
heart  will  need  all  possible  aids  and  stays ; 
and  this  is  one  of  them,  and  one  of  primary 
importance. 

Another   reason  why  you   should  connect 

yourself  publicly  with  the  Church,  is,  that  it 

^ill  save  you  from  a  vast  amount  of  temptation. 

If  you  are  known  to  be  an  orderly  member 
of  the  Church,  you  will  not  be  treated  by  a 
class  of  young  men,  whose  contact  is  always 


222  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

dangerous,  as  one  of  their  number.  Unless 
you  foolishly  invite  their  approach,  they  will 
stand  aloof,  and  the  farther  they  are  off  the 
better  for  you.  They  only  need  to  know  tliat 
you  are  not  firmly  settled  in  your  religious 
principles,  to  put  in  requisition  all  their  arts 
to  lead  you  from  the  path  of  duty  and  safety. 
When  they  see  in  you  the  evidence  that  you 
are  a  thorough  Christian,  they  will  be  likely 
to  give  you  up  to  your  own  way.  No  evi- 
dence of  indecision  and  half-heartedness  is 
stronger  than  refusing,  or  neglecting,  to  make 
an  open  profession  of  religion.  The  impres- 
sion that  you  are  not  fully  committed  to  the 
cause  of  God,  will  lay  you  open  to  a  galling 
fire  from  all  quarters ;  while  an  intimate  re- 
lation to  the  pious  will  secure  their  prayers 
and  sympathies,  together  with  a  variety  of 
social  influences,  which  will  cover  you  as  with 
a  shield  from  the  fiery  darts  of  the  Wicked 
One,  and  make  you  strong  in  your  position. 

Finally,  you  owe  this  public  profession  to 
the  Church. 

While  you  seek  the  aid  and  sympathies  of 
the  Church,  do  you  not  owe  her  cooperation? 
Would  you  wish  to  go  to  heaven  with  the 
people  of  God,  without  making  with  them  com- 
mon cause  ?  Ought  you  not  to  bear  a  share 
of  the  burdens  of  the  Church,  the  scorn  and 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        223 

reproach  which  she  endures,  while  you  seek  to 
share  in  her  triumphs  and  rewards?  Is  it 
right  merely  to  wish  to  secure  the  ends  of 
religion,  without  enduring  the  inconveniences 
of  a  religious  life  in  this  world?  No,  my 
dear  young  friends,  it  is  not  the  thing  at  all, 
this  cowardly  dodging  of  responsibilities.  He 
that  would  gain  glory,  must  hazard  the  battle  ; 
and  he  who  would  win  the  prize,  must  run 
the  race.  You  owe  to  the  Church  your  sym- 
pathies, your  prayers,  and  all  the  aid  you  can 
afford  her,  by  the  appropriation  of  all  your 
talents  for  the  furtherance  of  her  prosperity. 
This,  as  a  dutiful  son  of  the  Church,  you  will 
freely  acknowledge  as  often  and  as  publicly 
as  need  requires.  For  her  fostering  care  you 
cannot  return  neglect  and  abandonment  in 
the  time  of  her  struggles.  The  mother  that 
bore  and  nurtured  you,  has  claims  for  an  af- 
fectionate remembrance,  public  recognition, 
and  hearty  and  unfailing  devotion. 

A  decided  public  religious  course  is  the 
only  one  you  can  take  with  any  credit,  or  the 
least  promise  of  success.  You  must  not  be 
ostentatious  of  your  religion  ;  at  the  same 
time  you  must  not  conceal  it.  On  all  proper 
occasions  you  should  make  yourself  known  in 
your  Christian  character,  and  sliould  be  so 
related  and  associated,   that  your  acquaint- 


224  MANLY   CHARACTER. 

ances  will  regard  your  position  as  by  no  means 
equivocal.  If  God  has  lit  up  the  lamp  of 
grace  in  your  heart,  it  is  not  that  ^'  it  may  be 
put  under  a  bushel.  Let  your  light  so  shine 
before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works, 
and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven.'' 
By  this  means  you  will  contribute  your 
quota  of  influence  to  the  honour  and  success 
of  the  Church.  Profession  is  not  everything 
that  is  necessary,  and  yet  it  is  necessary  in  its 
place.  Our  faith  in  Christ,  and  our  love  for 
his  cause,  are  only  known  to  the  world  by 
their  fruits,  and  one  of  the  developments  of 
these  principles  of  spiritual  life  is  an  open 
avowal  of  them — identifying  our  interests,  for 
time  and  eternity,  with  the  Church  of  Christ. 
The  condition  of  discipleship  is  taking  the 
cross  and  folloiving  Christ ;  and  certainly  this 
implies  all  the  scandal  which  will  come  from 
the  world  around  us,  in  consequence  of  our 
identification  with  the  fortunes  of  the  Church. 
Her  weal  or  woe  must  become  ours,  and  of 
this  we  must  make  no  secret.  For  the  love 
of  Christ,  and  ihe  Church  which  he  hath  pur- 
chased with  his  own  blood,  we  must  lay  all 
we  have  and  are — our  time,  our  talents,  our 
honour,  our  earthly  happiness — upon  the  altar 
of  Christianity.  If  we  are  not  willing  to  do 
this,  we  are  unworthy  of  the  name  of  Chris- 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        225 

tiaiis.  And  when  we  come  to  this  poin%  we 
shall  be  prepared,  on  all  occasions,  to  show 
our  colours.  There  will  be  no  evading  the 
name  and  responsibilities  of  a  Christian 
through  fear  or  shame.  Hence  I  counsel  you, 
my  young  friends,  that  you  first  become 
hearty  experimental  Christians ;  and  then  that 
you  cast  in  your  lot,  for  life,  with  the  people 
of  God. 

Again  :  a  public  profession  of  religion  should 
be  followed  by  a  prompt  and  regular  attend' 
ance  upon  all  the  public  means  of  grace. 

St.  Paul  says  :  "  Forget  not  the  assembling 
of  yourselves  together  as  the  manner  of  some 
is.^^  The  public  services  of  the  sanctuary — 
such  as  the  preaching  of  the  word,  the  holy 
sacrament,  meetings  for  Christian  conference 
and  social  prayer — are  imperative  duties  en- 
joined upon  every  Christian  man.  Without 
introducing  particular  proof  texts  upon  the 
point,  I  would  just  refer  you  to  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles  for  evidence  of  the  esti- 
mate put  upon  these  things  by  the  primi- 
tive disciples  of  Christ.  They  are  our  ex- 
amples ;  what  was  right  and  necessary  for 
them,  is  right  and  necessary  for  us.  The 
great  Head  of  the  Church,  who  knows  what 
is  best  for  us,  and  proper  in  itself,  has  made 
these  condition^  essential   to   spiritual  pros- 

15 


22G  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

perity.  They  also  constitute  what  may  be 
called  objective  piety,  or  the  outward  ex- 
pression of  an  inward  vital  principle  of  de- 
votion to  God.  The  prophet  says :  "  Then 
they  that  feared  the  Lord  spake  often  one  to 
another  ;  and  tlie  Lord  hearkened,  and  heard 
it :  and  a  book  of  remembrance  was  written 
before  him  for  them  that  feared  the  Lord,  and 
that  thought  upon  his  name.  And  they  shall 
be  mine,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  in  that  day 
when  I  make  up  my  jewels  ;  and  I  will  spare 
them,  as  a  man  spare th  his  own  son  that 
serveth  him.''  Mai.  iii,  16,  17. 

As  a  Christian,  it  will  become  you  to  be 
mindful  of  all  the  institutions  of  the  gospel, 
and  all  the  appointments  of  the  Church,  made 
under  the  great  charter  of  our  salvation. 
Never  profane  the  holy  Sabbath,  either  by 
ordinary  bodily  or  mental  labour,  seeking 
your  own  pleasure  abroad,  or  by  idleness  and 
sloth  at  home.  The  Sabbath  is  a  great  relig- 
ious benefit,  and  should  be  improved  with 
reference  to  our  spiritual  good  and  the  spirit- 
ual good  of  others.  Worn  down  and  perplexed 
by  worldly  cares  through  the  week,  what  a 
glorious  privilege,  and  what  a  solemn  duty, 
to  spend  the  Sabbath  in  rest  from  worldly 
occupations  and  cares,  and  in  recruiting  the 
energies  of  the  soul  by  holy  converse  with 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        227 

God  and  the  communion  of  saints !  For  the 
time,  cast  off  all  worldly  cares  and  studies, 
and  give  yourself  to  holy  meditation,  prayer, 
reading  the  Scriptures,  and  the  hearing  of  the 
word.  Such  exercises  will  be  found  abun- 
dantly better  fitted  to  restore  your  wasted 
energies,  than  going  out  of  town  in  the  cars 
or  on  a  steamboat,  than  rambles  over  the 
fields,  or  spending  the  day  in  inglorious  sloth 
at  home. 

Meet  all  your  appointments  for  social  re- 
ligious intercourse  with  promptness  and  uni- 
formity. It  is  a  shame  to  a  member  of  the 
Church  never,  or  very  seldom,  to  be  seen  at 
the  week-evening  meetings  of  the  Church — to 
be  always  absent  from  lecture,  from  the  prayer- 
meeting,  the  class-meeting,  the  love-feast,  or 
whatever  regular  or  occasional  services  may 
be  appointed  by  the  Church  of  his  choice.  At- 
tendance upon  all  these  means  should  be  so 
uniform  as  to  become  a  habit,  and  then  it 
will  be  natural  and  easy.  Moreover,  the  time 
to  form  the  habit  of  orderly  and  uniform  at- 
tendance upon  the  means  of  grace,  is  in  youth, 
at  the  commencement  of  your  course.  Would 
you  be  a  growing  Christian — would  you  be 
an  estimable,  influential,  useful  member  of 
the  Church — would  you  not  be  a  dead  weight 
on  the  Church,  and  a  reproach  to  the  Christian 


228  MANLY  CHAEACTER. 

name — would  you  not  peril  your  own  salva- 
tion, and  the  salvation  of  others,  you  must  he 
more  than  a  Christian  in  name :  you  must  he 
constant  and  uniform  in  your  attendance  upon 
all  the  ordinances  of  God — you  must  not 
neglect  the  puhlic  means  of  grace. 

Much  will  depend  upon  the  decision  and 
earnestness  of  spirit  with  which  you  attend  to 
your  puhlic  religious  duties.  Do  not  doze 
under  a  sermon,  nor  let  your  prayers  freeze 
upon  your  lips.  Be  wide  awake  and  deeply 
engaged  when  you  are  in  the  house  of  God. 
A  religion  that  does  not  stir  up  and  warm  the 
soul,  is  of  very  little  worth.  We  are  exhorted 
to  "  turn  away  '^  from  those  who,  "  having  the 
form  of  godliness,  deny  the  power  thereof.'^ 
If  this  should  he  your  character,  hoth  the 
Church  and  the  world  would  loathe  you,  and 
God  himself  would  loathe  you  ;  for  the  "  luke- 
warm '^  he  "  will  spew  out  of  his  mouth. '^  En- 
ter the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house  with  a  joyful 
heart,  and  praise  God  with  gladness.  Feel 
that  it  would  be  to  you  a  far  greater  honour 
than  any  this  world  can  afford,  to  "  be  a  door- 
keeper in  the  house  of  the  Lord.''  What  a 
relish  had  the  Psalmist  for  the  worship  of 
God,  when  he  could  send  out,  from  the  very 
bottom  of  his  heart,  such  sentiments  as  these : 
^'  My  soul  longeth,  yea,  even  fainteth  for  the 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.       229 

courts  of  the  Lord.  One  thing  have  I  desired 
of  the  Lord,  that  will  I  seek  after;  that  I 
may  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  all  the 
days  of  my  life,  to  behold  the  beauty  of  the 
Lord,  and  to  inquire  in  his  temple.'^  Such  a 
spirit  as  this  will  always  exhibit  itself  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  subject  of  it  enters  the 
sanctuary,  and  deports  himself  while  there. 
A  serious,  earnest  demeanour,  always  charac- 
terizes the  true  and  accepted  worshipper,  when 
he  takes  his  place  in  the  solemn  assembly. 
He  feels  that  the  eye  of  God  is  upon  him,  and 
that  he  is  a  sinner,  and  God  is  holy.  He 
heeds  the  wise  counsel  of  Solomon :  "  Keep 
thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  house  of  God, 
and  be  more  ready  to  hear,  than  to  give  the 
sacrifice  of  fools :  for  they  consider  not  that 
they  do  evil.  Be  not  rash  with  thy  mouth, 
and  let  not  thy  heart  be  hasty  to  utter  any- 
thing before  God :  for  God  is  in  heaven,  and 
thou  upon  earth :  therefore  let  thy  words  be 
few.''  Eccl.  V,  1,  2. 

Another  condition  of  worthy  membership  in 
the  Church,  is  prompt  and  liberal  attention  to 
her  benevolent  institutions. 

A  worthy  member  of  the  Church  will  sym- 
pathize with  her  in  her  concern  for  the  world, 
and  her  efforts  for  its  illumination  and  salva- 
tion.    Li  all  her  struggles  in  this  behalf,  and 


280  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

in  all  her  burdens  and  outlays,  he  will  take 
his  part,  considering  that  he  is  not  introduced 
into  the  Church  merely  to  enjoy  her  fostering 
care,  but  also  to  help  fight  her  battles.  I 
should  hope,  young  men,  to  see  you  early 
engaged  in  the  cause  of  missions,  Sabbath 
schools,  tract  distribution,  and  Church  exten- 
sion. There  is  a  department  for  you — a  post 
of  duty  suited  to  your  capacity — in  all  these 
departments  of  labour.  The  missionary  spirit 
— that  is,  a  spirit  of  burning  zeal  to  do  good 
— should  be  early  cultivated.  That  spirit  will 
seek  and  find  the  appropriate  sphere  for  you, 
and  move  you  to  action,  and  you  will  find 
yourselves  happily  and  successfully  labouring 
in  a  field  "  white  unto  the  harvest." 

"  Begin  early  to  cherish  a  public  spirit ;  be- 
cause if  you  do  not  possess  this  disposition  in 
the  morning  of  life,  you  probably  never  will. 
This  is  a  virtue  that  rarely  springs  up  late  in 
life.  If  it  grow  and  flourish  at  all,  it  must 
be  planted  in  youth,  and  be  nourished  by  the 
warm  sunshine  and  rain  of  the  spring  season 
of  existence.  He  who  cares  only  for  himself 
in  youth,  will  be  a  very  niggard  in  man- 
hood, and  a  wretched  miser  in  old  age." — Br. 
Halves' s  Lectures  to  Young  Men, 

You  may  be  inclined  to  think  it  will  be  too 
much  to  undertake  to  do  something  for  all 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        231 

tliese  various  causes  ;  but  this  is  a  mistake 
suggested  by  the  great  adversary.  The  more 
you  do,  the  more  you  can  do.  Dr.  Clarke 
somewhere  remarks,  that  the  old  adage,  that 
we  must  not  have  too  many  irons  in  the  fire, 
lest  some  of  them  should  burn,  is  a  great 
error.  Put  into  the  fire,  says  he,  all  the 
irons  you  have,  with  shovel,  tongs,  and  poker 
besides :  for  the  more  irons  you  have  in  the 
fire,  the  more  work  you  will  bring  out.  The 
idea  intended  to  be  enforced  is,  that  those 
who  have  but  little  on  hand,  will  do  but  little  ; 
while  those  who  undertake  much,  will  bring- 
about  larger  results.  The  larger  the  amount 
of  effort  laid  out,  if  the  strength  be  not  really 
overtasked,  the  more  will  power  accumulate, 
and  the  more  fruitful  the  results.  The  idle 
and  the  timid  are  feeble  and  inefficient. 

Finally,  having  now  embraced  all  that  I 
intended  to  say  with  reference  to  your  con- 
duct in  its  more  immediate  relations  to  the 
Church,  I  have  a  word  to  say  with  reference 
to  your  intercourse  with  the  world. 

It  is  not  your  intercourse  with  society,  as  a 
man  or  a  citizen,  of  which  I  am  about  to 
speak — of  this  I  have  spoken  already  in  an- 
other connexion — but  your  intercourse  with 
men  as  a  Christian,  your  religious  character 
and  bearing.     A  Christian  man  should  be  re- 


232  MANLY  CHAEACTER. 

ligious  always.  Be  not  startled  at  this  propo- 
sition. It  is  an  axiom  whicli  contains  its  own 
evidence.  It  must  be  true,  unless  a  Christian 
is  sometimes  licensed  to  lay  aside  his  charac- 
ter, and  deny  his  Saviour ;  and  no  one  will 
assert  this.  The  difficulties  which,  at  first 
view,  seem  to  surround  the  case,  are  removed 
by  a  slight  explanation.  A  man  is  just  as 
religious  when  he  is  engaged  in  his  business 
as  when  he  is  at  his  prayers,  provided  he 
transacts  his  business  upon  Christian  princi- 
ples. If  you  engage  in  some  lawful  and  useful 
occupation,  and  transact  your  business  upon 
true  Christian  principles,  your  religion  is  a 
daily  and  a  public  affair.  This  mode  of  busi- 
ness intercourse  with  the  world  is  not  so  com- 
mon to  business  men,  that  it  will  excite  no 
attention.  I  fear  it  is  a  truth — I  am  sorry  to 
say  it — that  it  constitutes  the  exception,  and 
not  the  rule.  A  strict  adherence  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  gospel  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of 
life,  will  carry  conviction  to  that  portion  of 
the  business  world  with  which  you  come  into 
contact  more  deeply  and  effectually  than  loud 
professions,  but  partially  or  doubtfully  sus- 
tained by  your  e very-day  practice. 

A  truly  Christian  bearing  should  be  the 
study  of  every  Christian  man,  and  especially  of 
every  young  man  who  professes  Christianity. 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        233 

Upon  this  point  I  need  not  go  into  particulars. 
A  deep  and  constant  impression  that  you  are 
observed  by  others,  and  that  your  example  is 
making  an  impression  which  will  be  perma- 
nently beneficial  or  injurious,  will  give  your 
social  life  a  truly  Christian  character. 

I  shall  now  proceed  with  a  more  general 
view  of  the  duties,  influence,  and  responsi- 
bilities of  young  men,  in  a  moral  and  religious 
point  of  vicAv. 

Young  men,  in  one  form  or  another,  are 
undergoing  a  process  of  preparation  for  use- 
fulness in  active  life :  but  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  they  are  to  wait  until  this 
course  of  preparation  is  completed  before  they 
engage  in  active  efforts  to  promote  the  in- 
terests of  mankind.  Their  position  has  many 
advantages  for  a  profitable  outlay  of  influence 
and  moral  power  in  the  midst  of  their  prepa- 
rations for  a  position  in  society.  There  is  not 
a  college  or  school  in  the  country  in  which  a 
pious  student  may  not  be  about  his  Master's 
business.  There  is  not  a  manufactory,  or  a 
shop,  or  any  other  place  where  young  men 
mingle  together,  in  which  there  are  not  ways 
and  means  of  doing  good.  Young  men  have 
more  influence  over  their  own  class  than  any 
others  can  have.  This  influence  should  al- 
ways be  laid  out  for  good — the  sj)iritual  and 


2o4  MANLY  CHARACTEll. 

eternal  good  of  the  young,  whose  sympathies 
are  with  them,  and  whose  characters  may  be 
moulded  by  example. 

As  to  the  position  of  young  men  in  relation 
to  usefulness,  a  few  eases  only  need  be  referred 
to  as  illustrations.  Witness  the  influence  ex- 
erted upon  the  destinies  of  thousands  by  a 
few  young  men  in  the  University  of  Oxford 
during  the  last  century.  Their  efforts  to 
arouse  the  slumbering  and  relieve  the  wretch- 
ed, awakened  an  interest  throughout  the 
British  isles,  and  constituted  the  early  begin- 
nings of  the  new  form  of  Christianity  called 
Methodism.  A  small  company  of  young  men 
in  college  set  this  ball  in  motion,  and  it 
is  still  rolling  on  with  accumulated  power. 
M'Cheyne,  while  a  student  in  Edinburgh,  in 
company  with  some  of  his  fellows-students,  un- 
dertook the  work  of  visiting,  on  the  Lord's 
day,  the  most  destitute  and  wretched  portions 
of  the  city,  and  by  circulating  tracts  among 
the  poor  and  neglected,  praying  with  them, 
and  giving  them  a  word  of  exhortation  and 
advice,  as  occasion  required,  was  an  instru- 
ment in  the  hand  of  God  of  leading  many  of 
them  from  darkness  to  light.  (See  his  Life  and 
Remains.)  Hurd,  in  the  academy  and  in  col- 
lege, was  a  most  efficient  labourer  in  behalf 
of  his  fellow-students,  and  was  an  instrument 


MOllAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        235 

in  the  hands  of  God  of  turning  many  of  them 
from  the  error  of  their  ways.  (See  the  Wes- 
leyan  Student,  by  Dr.  Holdich.) 

In  these  instances,  and  many  more  which 
might  be  named,  the  very  field  of  preparation 
was  turned  into  a  field  of  usefulness.  Hurd 
died  in  college ;  but  before  he  departed,  had 
already  made  his  mark  upon  the  world,  and 
left  behind  him  fruit  which  continues  to 
abound  to  the  glory  of  God.  Who,  of  my 
young  friends,  would  wish  to  die  without  leav- 
ing behind  him  evidence  of  his  having  lived, 
and  lived  to  some  good  purpose  ?  How  much 
better  a  short  and  useful  life,  than  one  that 
is  long  and  without  advantage  to  the  world ! 
Young  men,  let  me  exhort  you  to  secure  some 
fruit  of  your  piety  and  charity  as  early  as 
possible :  for  you  may  not  live  to  fill  a  larger 
and  more  public  sphere  in  the  Church ;  and 
for  your  talent  to  do  good  while  young,  the 
Lord  of  the  vineyard  will  hold  you  to  a  strict 
account. 

Experimental,  practical,  active  Christianity, 
is  the  perfection  of  manhood.  Contrast  in 
your  mind  an  active,  useful.  Christian  young 
man,  with  the  aspirant  for  fame  or  wealth,  or 
with  the  votary  of  pleasure.  Consider  them 
as  candidates  for  a  future,  endless  state  of 
being.     One  is  living  to  a  good  purpose ;  while 


236  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

the  other  lives  for  naught.  One  is  pursuing  a 
substantial  good  ;  while  the  other  is  pursuing 
shadows.  One  is  laying  in  store  a  good  foun- 
dation against  the  time  to  come ;  while  the 
other  is  purchasing  for  himself  infinite  regret 
and  eternal  infamy.  The  name  of  one  will  he 
as  ointment  poured  forth  ;  while  that  of  the 
other  will  be  a  stench  and  an  abhorrence 
when  he  is  gone  to  his  account,  and  his  hopes 
are  buried. 

The  aspirant  for  wealth  gives  himself  no 
rest :  he  toils  day  and  night ;  he  calculates 
and  schemes  ;  it  may  be  he  accumulates  a 
fortune.  He  is  still  restless  and  unhappy. 
He  seeks  more  and  more,  and  yet  is  as  far 
from  the  goal  as  ever.  All  seek  his  friend- 
ship, and  do  him  reverence.  He  lives  a  short 
time,  and  rolls  in  wealth ;  but  the  time  of 
reckoning  finally  comes.  He  dies,  and  leaves 
his  wealth  to  others — perhaps  for  fools  to 
squander.  Here  ends  his  earthly  history  ;  but 
his  eternal  state,  endless  retribution^  now 
begins ! 

The  aspirant  for  fame  courts  the  applause 
of  men  ;  he  worships  no  god  but  fashion  ;  he 
caters  to  the  public  taste  ;  he  gathers  around 
him  a  large  circle  of  admirers  ;  he  ascends 
the  highest  pinnacle  of  fame ;  he  makes  a 
mighty  effort  to  ascend  still  higher  ;  he  hears 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        237 

one  universal  peal  of  applause ;  he  listens, 
tries  to  be  liappj,  but  wants  a  little  more  ; 
is  not  satisfied,  swells  with  pride,  and  begins 
to  think  that  he  has  not  yet  attained  to  all 
that  his  talents  and  services  deserve  of  the 
world ;  struggles  desperately  for  a  still  more 
elevated  position,  or  to  save  himself  from 
losing  a  portion  of  his  popularity  which  he 
sees  in  danger,  and,  all  at  once,  feels  the 
ground  under  his  feet  giving  way  !  He  drops 
into  the  grave,  and  all  his  glory  vanishes  into 
thin  air ! 

The  mere  man  of  pleasure  indulges  himself 
in  every  species  of  excess.  He  follows  the 
cravings  of  his  animal  appetites,  until  they 
become  rampant,  and,  like  the  horse-leech, 
cry.  Give,  give ;  he  uses,  or  rather  abuses,  his 
senses  until  they  are  worn  out,  and  cease  to 
minister  to  his  pleasures  ;  he  becomes  an  ex- 
cited, feverish,  rotten  mass  of  flesh  and  blood  ; 
he  has  been  instrumental  in  leading  others 
into  crime,  and  now  the  human  wrecks  which 
he  sees  strewed  in  his  path  behind  him,  haunt 
his  imagination.  Full  of  anguish  of  body, 
and  tortures  of  conscience,  he  passes  into  the 
-world  of  spirits  to  receive  the  reward  of  his 
doings.  As  an  instance  in  illustration  of  this 
case,  see  the  last  hours  of  Thomas  Paine,  the 
famous  infidel  and  libertine.     Would  any  of 


238  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

my  young  friends  wish  to  live  such  a  life,  and 
die  such  a  death?  I  anticipate  the  answer. 
You  would  much  prefer  a  life  of  steady,  uni- 
form rectitude  and  usefulness ;  a  life  of  self- 
denial  and  piety ;  a  life  of  devotion  to  the 
honour  of  God  and  the  best  interests  of  man- 
kind; peace  of  conscience  while  living,  and 
the  grateful  remembrance  of  the  good  when 
dead — even  a  life  of  poverty,  and  privation, 
and  toil,  and  a  death  of  glorious  hope. 

"  Suppose,  for  instance,  young  men,  there 
were  two  kinds  of  seeds,  one  of  which  you  must, 
by  some  necessity  of  nature  or  compulsion, 
sow  every  spring,  and  the  fruit  of  which  you 
must,  by  the  same  necessity,  live  upon  every 
winter — one  kind  yielding  that  which  is  bitter 
and  nauseous,  and  inflicting  severe  pain ;  the 
other  that  which  is  pleasant  to  the  taste, 
and  salubrious  to  the  constitution — would  you 
not  be  very  careful  which  you  selected  and 
cast  into  your  garden,  knowing,  as  you  would, 
what  must  be  the  inevitable  result  ?  Why, 
this  is  your  condition  of  existence  and  your 
employment.  You  are  always  sowing  in  youth 
what  you  must  always  reap  in  manhood.'' — 
James. 

Eemember,  then,  my  young  friends,  that 
when  you  select  your  course  of  life,  you  take 
all  the  consequences  which  follow  it.     *'  Be 


MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  MANHOOD.        239 

not  deceived ;  God  is  not  mocked :  for  what- 
soever a  mau  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap. 
For  he  that  soweth  to  his  flesh,  shall  of  the 
flesh  reap  corruption ;  hut  he  that  soweth  to 
the  Spirit,  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  ever- 
lasting.'^ Gal.  vi,  7,  8.  May  your  life  be  such, 
that  your  last  hours  may  be  peaceful  and 
happy,  and  your  memory  blessed. 


240  MANLY  CHARACTER. 


X.-TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WAST  OF  THE  TIMES. 

"THE    DEIVINGt  IS    LIKE    THE    DRIVING    OF   JEHU    THE    SON    OP 

NIMSHI ;   FOR  HE  DEIVETH  FURIOUSLY."   2  KINGS  IX,  20. 
**  PERILOUS  TIMES  SHALL  COME."   2  TIM.  HI,  1. 

Having  drawn  out,  in  some  detail,  the  process 
of  constructing  a  manly  character,  it  will  be 
in  point  next  to  inquire  if  there  be  not  a  spe- 
cial demand  for  such  a  character  in  our  young 
men,  arising  from  the  exigences  of  the  times. 
Manhood  fully  developed,  and  symmetri- 
cally formed,  through  the  various  stages  of 
the  world's  history,  has  been  the  great  con- 
servative element  of  society,  and  has  been  in 
high  request.  Some  ages,  however,  have  seem- 
ed to  make  a  larger  demand  for  this  element 
than  others  ;  and  this  age  of  ours  is  one  which 
yields  to  none  of  its  predecessors  in  its  call 
for  manliness  of  character — for  men  of  the 
right  stamp.  The  perils  of  the  times  are 
imminent,  and  the  demand  for  a  high  grade 
of  intelligence,  and  great  strength  of  moral 
principle,  never  was  stronger.  New  develop- 
ments of  human  genius  and  activity  are  con- 
stantly arising,  and  new  dangers  to  the  dearest 
interests  of  society  are  calling  for  vigilance. 
This  is  neither  a  stagnant  nor  a  tame  and 
quiet  age.     It  is  an  age  of  activity,  of  enter- 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    241 

prise,  of  speculation,  of  adventure,  of  philoso- 
phizing— and  of  both  real  and  pseudo  reforms. 
The  natural  inquiry  is.  What  do  all  these 
facts  suggest  with  regard  to  the  character- 
istics— physical,  intellectual,  and  moral — of 
the  actors  just  about  to  enter  upon  the  stage  ? 
We  should  at  once  infer  that  an  ordinary, 
commonplace  genius  would  be  illy  suited  to 
such  times.  Slotli,  inaction,  and  mental  dwarf- 
ishness,  will  necessarily  either  be  fairly  dis- 
tanced, or  will  become  a  prey  to  the  active 
poison  which  is  scattered  broad-cast  over  the 
world  through  the  most  mighty  agencies. 
The  following  detailed  facts  present  the  basis 
of  the  argument  in  favour  of  the  position  that 
the  age  eminently  demands  vigorous  and  ma- 
ture manhood. 

This  is  an  age  distinguished  for  its  litera- 
ture, science,  and  philosophy.  It  is  an  age  of 
great  improvement. 

A  sound  Christian  thinker  says:  "Let  it 
be  allowed  tliat,  in  many  things,  the  age  is 
one  of  advancement.  Thus  much  is  notable, 
and  beyond  question.  It  would  be  unjust  and 
unthankful,  as  well  as  untrue,  not  to  allow 
this.  I  admit  it  ungrudgingly,  not  reluc- 
tantly or  through  constraint.  Into  much  that 
is  true  the  age  has  found  its  way,  and  in 
iicveral  provinces  of  knowledge,  unreached  by 
16 


242  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

its  predecessors,  it  has  made  good  its  footing. 
Circle  after  circle  has  widened  round  it,  and 
its  discoveries  are  certainly  neither  shadows 
nor  tinsel ;  they  are  real  and  solid.  No  Chris- 
tian need  fear  to  make  this  admission,  nor 
think  that  by  so  doing  he  lowers  the  credit 
of  the  Scriptures  as  the  true  fountain-head  of 
God-given  truth,  or  casts  dishonour  upon  him 
*  in  whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
and  knowledge.' 

"  The  mental  philosophy  of  the  age  is,  in 
some  respects,  of  a  truer  kind  than  hereto- 
fore, though  still  cloudy  and  unsatisfying — 
nay,  often  stumbling  into  scepticism,  panthe- 
ism, atheism.  The  science  of  the  age  is  pro- 
digiously in  advance  of  former  ages.  Its 
literature  is  wider  in  its  range,  and  purer  in 
its  aim.  Its  arts  are  on  a  higher  and  more 
perfect  scale.  Its  astronomy  has  searched  the 
heavens  far  more  extensively  and  profoundly. 
It — the  age,  we  mean — has  brought  to  light 
law  after  law  in  the  system  of  the  universe. 
It  speeds  over  the  earth  with  a  rapidity  once 
unknown.  It  transmits  intelligence  not  only 
more  swiftly  than  sound,  but  more  swiftly 
than  the  light.  It  is  restoring  fertility  to 
the  soil.  It  can  shut  out  pain  from  the  body, 
in  circumstances  which,  but  a  few  years  ago, 
would  have  racked  or  torn  every  nerve.    These 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WAXT  OF  THE  TIMES.    243 

things,  and  such  as  these,  the  age  has  dis- 
covered and  done ;  and,  because  of  these 
things,  we  may  admit  most  freely  that  there 
has  been,  in  some  things,  wondrous  progress — 
progress  which  might  be  turned  to  the  best 
account — progress  for  which  praise  is  due  to 
God." — Man,  his  Religion  and  his  World.  By 
Rev.  Horatins  Bonar. 

'  I  might  draw  out,  to  a  much  greater  ex- 
tent, the  elements  and  evidences  of  the  prog- 
ress of  the  age,  but  the  above  outline  will  be 
quite  sufficient  for  my  purpose.  AVhat  sen- 
sible young  man  will,  for  a  moment,  suppose 
that  a  low  grade  of  qualifications  for  a  position 
in  society  at  such  a  period  as  this,  will  answer 
his  purpose  ?  Could  he  expect,  in  a  profession, 
or  in  any  department  of  business,  to  maintain 
a  respectable  position  against  such  competition 
as  he  would  necessarily  meet  in  an  active,  in- 
telligent community,  without  the  grade  of 
qualifications  which  would  compare  favourably 
with  that  of  his  compeers  ?  I  tell  you,  young 
men,  that  the  man  that  is  a  man,  in  these  days 
of  ours,  is  a  man  full  grown.  No  puerile  de- 
monstrations will  answer  your  purpose.  You 
will  have  to  struggle  with  vast  forces,  and 
will  need  the  nerve  of  a  giant.  Unless  you 
are  qualified  to  assume  an  influential  position 
in  highly  intelligent  society,  you  will  neces- 


244  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

sarily  fall  under  the  embarrassments  of  one 
which,  almost  of  necessity ,  will  make  you  either 
a  victim  or  a  tool  of  superior  strength  and  in- 
fluence. Unless  you  have  already  consented, 
in  a  sense,  to  he  unmanned,  you  must  he  a 
man  through  and  through — a  man  in  stature 
and  compass.  You,  surely,  have  not  made  up 
your  mind  to  he  a  pigmy  among  giants,  nor 
a  dwarf  among  full-grown  men.  You  are  not 
preparing  for  a  residence  in  the  land  of  Lil- 
liput,  but  a  country  of  hale,  strong,  tall  men, 
— to  be  one  of  a  community  in  which  it  is  dis- 
graceful, even  to  children^  to  be  altogether 
ignorant  of  the  history  of  the  world,  and  of 
the  improvements  of  the  age.  You  cannot, 
you  dare  not,  surely  you  ivill  not,  venture  to 
mingle  with  the  strife  of  the  world  at  such  a 
period,  without  due  preparation.  Let  us  now 
examine  *'  the  signs  of  the  times,''  and  see 
what  they  suggest. 

Look  at  the  worldly  spirit  which  every- 
where prevails — the  thirst  for  wealth,  the  love 
of  money,  the  universal  scramble  for  gold; 
the  extravagance  in  outlay,  the  luxur}^  the 
sensuality,  which  show  themselves  in  society ; 
the  wickedness  in  high  places,  the  ambition 
for  office  and  place,  the  false-heartedness  and 
chicanery  of  politicians,  and  the  easy  virtue  of 
the  multitude,  who  can  be  wheedled  out  of 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    245 

their  principles,  or  be  cajoled  into  any  course 
which,  by  sophistry,  can  be  made  to  give  the 
vaguest  promise  of  utility.  What  is  the  pub- 
lic conscience?  Where  is  the  heart  of  the 
nation  ?     These  are  fearful  queries. 

We  have  a  sufficient  number  and  variety 
of  crimes  of  home-growth  to  fill  the  good  with 
alarm ;  but,  in  addition  to  all  these,  we  are 
daily  importing  the  crimes  of  the  Old  World, 
just  as  we  are  importing,  from  the  same 
source,  poverty  and  ignorance.  When  the 
records  of  emigration  show  that  we  are  receiv- 
ing emigrants,  at  the  port  of  New-York  alone, 
at  the  rate  of  one  tJiousand  pef  diem,  and  many 
of  them — thank  God,  not  all — from  the  moral 
sinks  of  the  Old  World,  it  is  no  marvel  that 
crime  should  increase  to  a  fearful  extent. 
"  The  enemy  is  coming  in  like  a  flood  f'  what 
but  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord "  can  "  lift  up  a 
standard  against  him  ?  '^ 

Again,  just  glance  at  the  gross  impositions 
which  are  palmed  off  upon  the  ignorant  and 
credulous — the  bold  impostures,  and  impudent 
humbugs,  which  lead  astray  and  bewilder  thou- 
sands to  their  utter  undoing.  Such  are  tlie 
trickery  of  quacks,  the  deceptions  of  "  science, 
falsely  so  called,"  and  the  mock  revelations 
of  base  impostors.  The  tricks  of  these  several 
trades  are  alwavs  marvellous,  and  sometimes 


246  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

ingenious,  but  tliey  are  none  the  less  sheer 
impositions  and  most  cruel  frauds.  It  is  a 
melancholy  spectacle — one  which  is  enough  to 
make  a  Christian  blush,  and  a  philosopher 
mad — to  see  the  inroads  which  these  base  im- 
positions are  making  upon  social  and  domestic 
circles.  Numbers  of  honest,  and,  in  some 
respects,  sensible  people,  can  be  persuaded  to 
believe  that  a  silly  girl  can  be  put  to  sleep, 
and,  with  the  utmost  ease,  be  invested  with 
ubiquity — pass  over  all  the  barriers  of  nature, 
and  survey  all  her  hidden  recesses — revealing 
with  unerring  certainty  the  secrets  of  both  the 
material  and  spiritual  worlds.  In  another  case 
''  spirits  "  are  evoked  from  the  unseen  world,  to 
give  foolish  answers  to  foolish  questions,  and 
that  merely  to  put  a  few  pennies  into  the 
pocket  of  a  designing  and  wicked  pythoness. 
That  all  this  goes  down  with  a  multitude  of 
people,  and,  of  course,  poisons  their  minds — 
weakening  their  faith,  and  injuring  their  vir- 
tue— is  a  most  melancholy  fact,  and  one  to  be 
well  considered. 

The  present  is  an  age  of  radicalism.  By 
radicalism,  I  mean  a  war  waged  against  the 
ancient  foundations  of  faith,  of  ethics,  and  of 
government.  Extreme  reforms  are  urged,  and 
a  vast  amount  of  eloquence,  and  of  a  certain 
sort  of  learning,  is    put  into   requisition  to 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    247 

bring  them  about.  In  theology  men  are  no 
longer  content  to  credit  the  simple  language 
of  the  Bible  as  it  stands,  but  a  recondite  philos- 
ophy must  be  invoked  to  come  to  the  aid  of 
the  inspired  writings,  before  we  are  allowed 
to  receive  their  teachings.  The  doctrine  of 
the  Divine  existence  is  admitted,  but  in  a  form 
which  turns  God  into  everything,  and  every- 
thing into  God.  Pantheism  or  transcendent- 
alism is  brought  in  to  take  the  place  of  the 
teachings  of  Moses  and  the  prophets,  of  Christ 
and  the  apostles.  Inspiration  is  admitted; 
but  in  such  sort  as  that  Voltaire  and  Eousseau, 
Herbert  and  Bolingbroke,  are  to  be  considered 
instances  of  its  illuminations,  and,  as  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  human  progress,  are 
made  to  occupy  a  position  vastly  in  advance 
of  Peter  and  Paul. 

In  morals,  that  is  right  which  ministers  most 
to  the  gratification  of  the  senses,  or  the  pride 
and  selfishness  of  the  human  heart.  The  old 
straight-jackets,  which  prohibit  sinful  amuse- 
ments, and  enforce  Sabbaths,  church-going, 
and  straight-forward  old-fashioned  religion, 
must  be  torn  asunder,  and  consigned  to  an- 
nihilation. 

In  political  economy,  unbridled  liberty  is  the 
sum  of  perfection,  and  all  conservatism  is 
scouted  as  a  relic  of  a  by-gone  age.     The  re- 


248  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

straints  of  law  are  instances  of  violence  to  hu- 
man nature,  and  are  opposed  to  ^'  the  progress 
of  the  race/' 

The  social  system  is  all  wrong — one  man 
has  as  much  right  to  possess  a  farm  as  an- 
other. Landlord  and  tenant,  mastei  and  ser- 
vant, principal  and  agent,  donor  and  recipient, 
ruler  and  ruled,  are  all  antiquated  notions, 
suited  to  the  barbarous  ages.  Universal  liberty 
and  absolute  equality  are  the  natural  condi- 
tions of  society,  and  must  be  claimed,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  conceded  on  the  other,  before 
the  world  will  have  reached  its  destiny. 

Woman  must  be  invested  with  the  rights 
with  which  nature  has  endowed  her — she  must 
be  admitted  to  the  learned  professions,  to  a 
part  in  the  government,  to  enter  the  camp 
with  sword  and  firelock,  to  command  vessels, 
to  mount  the  stump,  and  attend  the  elections, 
and  do  whatever  else  she  may  take  in  her 
head,  without  the  good  leave  of  the  soi  disant 
lords  of  the  creation.  As  to  that  old  law  of 
St.  Paul,  that  makes  **  the  man  the  head  of 
the  woman,''  it  is  now  quite  out  of  date.  Cer- 
tainly Paul  did  not  consider  that  such  a  law 
could  not  bind  woman,  as  she  had  no  hand  in 
making  it ;  those  were  dark  days,  those  days 
of  Paul. 

In  carrying  on  these  pseudo  reforms  a  thou- 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WAXT  OF  THE  TIMES.    249 

sand  voices  are  lifted  up — the  press  groans 
most  hideously — orators,  high  and  lo^y,  learned 
and  ignorant,  male  and  female,  white,  black, 
and  copper  colour,  mount  the  rostra,  and 
almost  make  the  strong  foundations  of  the 
earth  tremble  with  their  vociferations.  Nor 
are  our  modern  philanthropists  content  to 
wait  for  the  gradual  working  of  their  princi- 
ples, but  are  in  hot  haste  to  carry  out  "  the 
reforms  which  the  advanced  civilization  of  the 
nineteenth  century  imperatively  demands." 
They  move  heaven  and  earth  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  their  favourite  projects.  The 
philosophy  of  Germany  and  France  is  trans- 
lated into  English,  and  preached  in  a  thousand 
halls,  by  those  who  have  not  taken  the  time, 
or  have  not  the  sense,  to  understand  its  prac- 
tical tendency.  Mere  neophytes  all  at  once 
become  wiser  than  Solomon,  and  shed  such  a 
blaze  of  light  upon  the  world,  that  the  strong- 
est visual  organs  are  blinded  with  excess  of 
brightness.  Those  who  do  not  take  in  the  in- 
spiration are  plainly  told  that  they  are  "  be- 
hind the  age;"  Eip  Van  Winkle  like,  have 
been  asleep  for  a  long  time,  and  now  that  they 
have  been  aroused  to  consciousness,  they  ex- 
l)ect  to  find  the  world  just  as  it  was  when  they 
forgot  themselves.  The  satire  makes  the  ini- 
tiated smile,  while  the  thoughtful  are  grieved 


250  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

to  see  sober  views  and  common  sense  turned 
oat  of  doors  without  judge  or  jury. 

The  present  age  is  characterized  by  wonder- 
ful activity.  Society  is  in  motion.  Everything 
is  astir.  The  most  inert  masses  are  galvanized 
into  life.  Men  rush  here  and  there — they 
almost  fly  upon  the  Avings  of  the  wind.  The 
afflatus  by  which  they  are  impelled  from  one 
extreme  point  to  another,  seems  inexhausti- 
ble. Steam — that  wonder-working  power — 
has  made  the  antipodes  near  neighbours. 
That  modern  miracle — the  electric  telegi^aph — 
enables  our  distant  commercial  cities  to  hold 
communication  together,  and  to  keep  up  the 
equilibrium  of  commerce.  Shortly  one  man 
upon  the  shore  of  the  Atlantic,  and  another 
upon  that  of  the  Pacific,  will  be  able  to  ex- 
change morning  and  evening  salutations  ;  the 
evening  news  of  San  Francisco  will  be  pub- 
lished in  the  morning  papers  of  New- York  and 
Boston !  Men  are  constantly  becoming  more 
restless  and  enterprising — everybody  travels 
— all  have  business  abroad.  People  in  the 
country,  who  once  transacted  their  business 
with  the  country  shop-keeper,  now  go  to  the 
cities,  and  sell  the  produce  of  their  labour  and 
purchase  their  wares — performing  the  trip  in 
a  day,  and  at  the  expense  of  a  few  shillings, 
which  a  few  years  since  would  have  required 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    251 

a  week  or  two,  and  have  cost  them  as  many 
dollars  as  it  now  costs  them  cents.  We  are 
becoming  a  migratory  nation ;  no  natural 
barriers,  difficulties,  or  dangers,  prevent  our 
pushing  off  in  every  direction.  Hazard  is  no 
obstacle  to  enterprise,  and  hope  illumes  the 
most  gloomy  prospect. 

This  vast  stir  and  commotion  of  the  ele- 
ments, by  some,  is  taken  for  progi^ess.  It  is 
certainly  a  sign  of  life.  Whether  it  be  a 
favourable  or  unfavourable  symptom  depends 
entirely  upon  the  direction  which  things  take. 
Without  guidance  the  more  rapid  the  move- 
ment the  more  imminent  the  peril.  Without 
wise  direction  excitement  becomes  morbid, 
activity  is  hazardous,  perhaps  ruinous ;  move- 
ment  may  be  retrogressive.^  How  shall  the 
young  escape — how  shall  any  of  us  escape — 
the  whirlpool  of  mad  excitement  and  extrava- 
gant speculation  which  characterize  these 
times  and  this  country?  The  spirit  is  con- 
tagious, and  it  is  not  the  spirit  of  benevo- 
lence, of  public  amelioration,  of  legitimate 
reforms,  but  of  selfishness — a  lust  for  gold 
and  glory. 

The  vast  influx  of  foreigners  introduces 
new  and  somewhat  discordant  elements  into 
our  American  society.  Unless  these  are  trans- 
formed, by  the  action  of  some  mighty  agency, 


252  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

they  will  clog  the  wheels  of  State,  and  inter- 
rupt the  harmony  and  uniformity  of  their 
movements.  The  foreigners  who  come  among 
us  to  remain,  do  not  always  become  Ameri- 
canized. A  portion  of  them  come  with  their 
own  apparatus  of  education,  with  their  re- 
ligion and  their  philosophy,  all  formed  under 
despotic  governments,  and  partaking  of  the 
ultraism,  either  of  implicit  obedience  to  au- 
thority, or  of  its  reaction — unbridled  license 
— scepticism  or  socialism.  They  come  here 
not  to  be  moulded  by  the  genial  influences  of 
our  free  institutions,  but  to  act  as  propagan- 
dists of  either  a  heartless,  godless  rationalism, 
or  of  a  semi-heathen  superstition.  The  Ger- 
man and  French  schools  are  organized  here, 
and  are  propagating  their  infidel  philosophy 
and  their  socialism  ;  and  the  Jesuits  are  here, 
with  their  profound  knowledge  of  human  na- 
ture, and  their  arts  of  double-dealing  and  de- 
ception. Both  have  learning  and  genius,  and 
are  not  to  be  put  down  by  a  puff  of  breath. 
"  By  good  words  and  fair  speeches  they  de- 
ceive the  hearts  of  the  simple.'^  They  are 
able  to  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  rea- 
son, and  not  unfrequently  do  they  "  beguile 
unstable  souls.'' 

The  boldness  with  which  the  grand  heresies 
in  question  are  propounded  and  advocated,  is 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    253 

a  remarkable  fact.  Their  abettors  seem  to 
rely  upon  the  mere  credulity — or  rather,  to 
use  a  homely  word,  the  gullibility — of  men, 
and  to  feel  no  sort  of  responsibility  for  the 
forthcoming  of  reasons,  good  and  strong,  found- 
ed upon  commonly  acknowledged  principles 
and  facts.  Their  theories  of  philosophy,  of 
tradition,  or  authority,  as  the  case  may  be, 
are  simply  announced  as  axioms,  and  the  faith 
of  mankind  challenged  with  the  utmost  confi- 
dence. All  this  seems  to  result  from  an  as- 
sumption of  a  state  of  mind  capable  of  this 
sort  of  treatment.  It  would  certainly  seem 
that  so  much  confidence  or  presumption  of  suc- 
cess, must  rest  upon  facts,  indicating  the  state 
of  the  general  mind  of  the  country ;  for  the 
men  who  are  eno^acced  in  the  work  of  chano;e 
or  disorganization,  or  whatever  it  be  called, 
are  not  utterly  blind — they  at  least  think 
they  see  their  way  clear  before  them.  If  they 
were  convinced  that  the  opinions  and  faith  of 
men  could  not  be  moulded  by  such  means, 
they  would  not  employ  them. 

To  refer  to  one  illustration  of  what  we  are 
seeking  to  present.  An  indifferent  spectator 
would  read,  in  Brownson's  Quarterly,  the  as- 
sertion that  Protestants  are  not  to  be  reasoned 
ivith,  but  reproved — that  they  are  not  to  be  as- 
sailed by  arguments,  but   by  authority — and 


254  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

laugh  at  the  whole  thing.  He  would  quietly 
and  pleasantly  ask,  how  a  man  of  common 
sense  can  persuade  himself  that  anybody  in 
this  country — in  the  midst  of  this  glorious 
nineteenth  century — can  be  persuaded  to  give 
up  his  reason,  and  take  upon  trust  the  ipse 
dixit  of  another,  who  brings  with  him  no  cre- 
dentials of  a  divine  commission,  and  seems  to 
have  no  higher  claims  to  infallibility  than 
himself?  This  would  all  seem  legitimate, 
and  the  vagaries  of  an  ardent — not  to  say 
fanatical — convert  to  Popery,  would  be  dis- 
missed as  unworthy  of  serious  thought.  Others, 
who  might  be  disposed  to  look  a  little  more 
carefully  into  the  matter,  woukl  be  likely  to 
inquire,  How  came  this  naturally  strong  but 
poorly-balanced  mind  in  its  present  strange 
position  ?  What  sustains  it  in  that  position  ? 
Are  there  not  others  exposed  to  the  same 
agencies  and  influences  which  have  so  effec- 
tually wrought  upon  him,  and  who  would  be 
swamped  by  his  dogmatic  teachings,  and 
would  seem  to  see  something  of  divine  aiithori- 
ty  in  the  very  extravagance,  presumption,  and 
impudence  of  his  assumptions  ?  These  queries 
followed  out,  and  compared  with  the  facts  of 
history  and  observation,  would  lead  to  an  im- 
pression that  there  is  something  to  be  looked 
after  in  this  altered  tone — this  new  phase  in 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    255 

Eoman  Catholic  tactics.  It  would  at  least  lead 
to  the  question :  How  far  the  susceptibilities 
of  the  masses  encourage  the  hopes  of  dogmati- 
cal teachers  ?  how  far  the  public  mind  can  be 
practised  upon  and  misled  by  assumptions 
and  a  bold  front?  The  very  fact  of  such 
efforts,  in  such  quarters,  at  such  a  period  of 
the  world,  is  suggestive.  They  are  not  to 
be  isolated  from  the  present  aspects  of  the 
world,  and  the  signs  of  the  times. 

There  is,  doubtless,  a  vigorous  effort  now 
being  put  forth  for  the  recovery  of  the  well- 
nigh  ruined  despotisms  of  the  Old  World.  A 
reaction  in  their  favour  is  going  on  in  Europe. 
As  Americans,  we  now  despise  it.  At  the  next 
stage  of  its  progress  we  may  begin  to  sympa- 
thize with  it,  at  least  in  some  of  its  forms. 
That  this  state  of  things  is  anticipated  by  the 
minions  of  "  His  Holiness  the  Pope,^^  is  suf- 
ficiently evident.  In  the  first  place  they  boldly 
advocate  the  reactionary  movements  of  the 
governments  of  the  Continent  of  Europe.  Then 
they  justify  religious  persecution  under  those 
governments,  upon  grounds  which  would  take 
from  us  all  civil  and  religious  liberty,  if 
Eoman  Catholics  were  in  the  majority,  or  if 
they  had  in  their  hands  the  powers  of  the 
government.  We  are  also  repeatedly  told,  by 
their  high  ecclesiastical  functionaries,  and  in 


256  MAXLY  CHARACTER. 

their  publications,  that,  being  certainly  in  the 
wrong,  Protestants  have  no  right  to  freedom 
of  thought,  of  speech,  and  of  action,  especially 
in  matters  of  religion.  That  is,  we  have  no 
conscience  of  our  own,  for  whose  safekeeping 
we  are,  personally  and  directly,  responsible 
to  God.  That  Protestants  have  no  right  to 
live,  to  think,  and  act,  but  by  the  Pope's  good 
leave. 

And  how  is  all  this  received?  What  is 
said  about  it  ?  A  few  political  editors  demur, 
and  the  rest  are  mum,  while  nearly  all  of 
them  seem  to  have  a  sacred  horror  of  that 
"  religious  and  sectarian  bigotry ''  which  Avould 
lay  the  axe  at  once  at  the  root  of  the  deadly 
Upas.  Extreme  sensitiveness  is  manifested 
by  politicians  in  all  questions  in  which  the 
dogmas  of  Eome  are  concerned.  Votes  are 
sought  to  the  prejudice  of  the  great  principles 
of  liberty  and  the  rights  of  conscience,  and  ho 
who  remonstrates  is  set  down  as  a  narrow- 
minded  sectarian. 

Now  what  does  all  this  indicate?  What 
lessons  should  be  drawn  from  facts  so  startling 
and  instructive  ?  By  some  we  shall  be  met 
with  a  bundle  of  philosophy — the  doctrines  of 
hmian  progress,  and  the  splendid  theories  of 
the  march  and  final  triumph  of  free  principles. 
All  very  fair,  but  opposed  to  some  stubborn 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OP  THE  TIMES.    257 

facts.  What  has  become  of  liberty  on  the 
Continent  of  Europe  ?  A  few  years  ago  we 
were  told,  by  these  political  theorizers,  that, 
at  the  next  upturning  in  Europe,  absolutism 
would  utter  its  last  expiring  groan — the  sov- 
ereigns would  leave  their  thrones,  and  become 
one  with  the  common  mass  of  the  people,  or 
lose  their  heads.  When  the  Pope  made  some 
concessions  to  freedom,  it  was  said  he  could 
never  take  them  back,  for  the  march  of  liberal 
lyrinciples  is  miward.  The  French  and  the 
Roman  republics  would  be  permanent,  for 
there  is  no  stich  thing  as  an  emancipated  people 
going  back  to  slavei^y.  All  this  was  glorious, 
and  we  tried  to  believe  it ;  we  hoped  it  was 
the  true  theory  of  human  progress.  But  what 
is  the  condition  of  things  now  in  those  coun- 
tries where  hopeful  republics  were  set  up  ?  In 
Rome,  the  most  execrable  of  all  tyrannies,  is  ap- 
parently secure  upon  its  seat — the  Inquisition 
is  in  full  blast,  and  the  genius  of  liberty  is 
just  gasping  for  breath  !  France  is  prostrate 
before  the  spirit  of  despotism  !  A  grand  con- 
federation of  the  great  powers  of  continental 
Europe,  to  crush  the  rising  hopes  of  the  world 
for  universal  liberty,  civil  and  religious,  is  in 
a  fair  way  to  be  consummated ! 

It  is  no  doubt  a  fact  that  liberal  principles 
have  been  making  vast  advances  in  the  world 
17 


258  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

within  the  last  fifty  years.  In  the  meantime 
despots  have  not  been  idle,  and  they  have 
somehow  so  managed  as  to  send  forward  pow- 
der and  bullets  a  little  faster  than  liberty  has 
been  able  to  travel.  The  nations  of  the  Old 
World  have  been  in  motion  ;  they  have  moved 
forward  and  backward,  and  laterally;  but 
whether,  in  a  knowledge  of  the  theory  of 
government,  they  are  one  hair's  breadth  in 
advance  of  what  they  were  fifty  years  ago,  is, 
to  say  the  least,  a  debatable  question.  Let 
us,  then,  not  be  met  with  theories  which  have 
been  demonstrated  false  by  history,  in  oppo- 
sition to  our  position,  that  there  are  strong 
indications  in  the  state  of  the  public  mind  and 
heart  that  great  obstacles  are  to  be  overcome 
before  we  see  the  millennium  of  civil  and  re- 
ligious emancipation.  All  is  not  right  just 
yet.  There  are  indications  that  despotism  is 
preparing  to  fight  over  her  old  battles  with 
liberal  institutions.  When  her  chains  will 
finally  be  broken  God  only  knows ;  and  if  we 
of  the  "  Model  Eepublic"  come  out  of  the  fire, 
into  which  we  are  likely  to  be  cast,  without 
being  singed,  it  will  be,  not  so  much  because 
of  any  inherent  power  there  is  in  the  idea  of 
liberty,  or  because  "  mind  is  progressing,"  as 
because  God  shall  have  been  with  us,  inspiring 
us  with  vigilance,  and  filling  us  with  the  wis- 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    259 

dom  which  cometh  from  above.  "  Perilous 
times''  are  upon  us,  and  redeeming  influences 
absolutely  demanded. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  field  of  observation 
I  now  survey  is  quite  general — I  do  not  con- 
fine myself  to  any  section  or  to  any  class  of 
the  community.  All  classes  are  more  or  less 
interested  in  the  state  of  opinion,  of  heart,  and 
of  morals,  which,  in  various  ways,  is  unmis- 
takably indicated.  We  are  all  interested  in 
the  state  of  the  public  mind,  as  we  are  all 
more  or  less  affected  by  it,  and  as  we  have  a 
fellow-feeling  with  our  brethren  and  fellow- 
citizens.  Did  we  only  regard  our  own  indi- 
vidual interests,  we  should  still  feel  a  concern 
for  the  state  of  the  public  mind,  for  the  reason 
that  the  moral  atmosphere  of  the  community 
at  large  very  much  influences  individuals. 
Our  Saviour  recognises  this  fact,  when  he  says 
that  "  because  iniquity  shall  abound,  the  love 
of  many  shall  wax  cold."  Abounding  iniquity 
naturally  operates  to  cool  the  ardour  of  indi- 
vidual Christians ;  and  consequently  their 
safety  and  progress  are  materially  affected  by 
the  condition  of  things  outside.  An  individual 
member  of  the  Church,  of  course,  will  cherish 
a  godly  jealousy  of  the  public  faith  and 
morals. 

I  take  my  gauge  from  the  public  prints, — 


260  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

especially  the  newspapers, — public  lectures, 
associations  for  purposes  of  reform,  and  a  thou- 
sand other  sources,  which  are  open  to  the  view 
of  the  critical  observer.  From  these  sources 
I  derive  the  facts  from  which  I  make  my  in- 
ductions. Through  them  let  us  now  look  at 
the  popular  theory  of  progress,  and  see  upon 
what  it  is  based. 

Progress,  as  it  is  understood  and  taught  by 
the  blustering  reformers  of  this  age,  implies 
a  recuperative  energy  in  human  nature — the 
ability  of  society  to  remedy  its  own  wrongs. 
Hence  the  modern  prophets  predict  that  all 
social  evils  will  soon  be  cured,  and  man — uni- 
versal man — will  be  enlightened,  free,  and 
happy,  because  the  human  mind  is  upward  and 
onward  in  its  aspirations  and  efforts.  The 
world  is  going  on — this  is  the  age  of  progress 
— hence  old  abuses  and  errors  will  soon  be 
done  away,  and  man  will  attain  the  bliss  of  a 
perfect  social  condition.  This  is  destiny — 
everything  indicates  that  we  are  hastening  on 
to  this  glorious  consummation.  The  doctrine, 
and  the  fact,  of  progress  are  made  the  plea 
for  the  introduction  of  all  sorts  of  reforms. 
This  is  an  age  of  progress — therefore  this,  that, 
and  the  other,  must  be  done.  The  advanced 
position  of  society  requires  that  the  old  order 
of  things,  both  in  Church  and  State,  should 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    261 

be  done  away.  Matters  were  well  enough 
arranged  for  our  fathers — poor  souls,  they 
knew  no  better ! — but  this  is  an  age  of  im- 
provement, and  things  must  be  changed.  Just 
as  some  of  the  citizens  of  our  good  city  of 
Gotham  reason  for  about  three  months  every 
year.  On  the  first  of  February,  and  thence- 
forward to  the  first  of  May,  they  say  within 
themselves :  "  The  day  for  *  moving'  is  coming, 
and  I  must  go  *  a  house-hunting.' "  So  it  goes 
with  multitudes  ;  they  remove  from  one  house 
to  another,  no  better — perhaps  not  so  good — 
no  cheaper,  maybe  not  quite  so  cheap:  but 
they  have  contracted  a  hatred  of  the  ugly 
visage  of  the  old  landlord — or  the  boy  he 
sends  around  on  quarter-day — and  hence  they 
pull  up  stakes,  and  take  new  quarters,  which 
are  to  be  abandoned  in  the  same  way,  and  for 
the  same  reason,  twelve  months  hence.  The 
first  of  May  is  "  moving-day ;"  therefore  these 
people  must  remove.  This  is  an  age  of  im- 
provement, say  our  modern  progressives;  there- 
fore we  must  demolish  old  fabrics,  and  build 
new  ones,  which  will  better  suit  the  taste  of 
the  age. 

After  all,  what  is  the  boasted  progress  of 
this  age  ?  Among  the  recent  publications, 
I  have  before  me  a  sensible  little  book,  by 
the  celebrated  Scotch  writer,  Bonar,  entitled, 


262  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

**  Man,  his  Eeligion  and  his  World/'  In  a 
chapter  on  "  the  theory  of  progress/'  the  au- 
thor gives  us  some  observations  which  are 
worthy  of  consideration. 

As  to  those  who  make  such  an  outcry  in 
relation  to  the  progress  of  the  age,  he  asks : 
"Have  they  calculated  the  loss  as  well  as 
the  gain,  the  minus  as  well  as  the  plus,  and  is 
it  on  the  ascertained  difference  that  they  rest 
their  congratulations  ?''  And  then  proceeds : 
"  If  so,  let  them  boast :  it  is  well.  If  not, 
then  their  estimate  is  so  wholly  one-sided  that 
no  credit  can  be  given  to  it  even  by  them- 
selves. 

"It  is  a  literary  age — it  is  an  age  of  sci- 
ence— it  is  an  age  of  far-ranging  inquiry — it 
is  an  age  of  action  ;  many  run  to  and  fro,  and 
knowledge  is  increased.  But  still  it  may  not 
be  an  age  of  progress.  The  amount  of  knowl- 
edge gained  may  be  nothing  to  the  amount 
lost ;  or  that  which  is  gained  may  be  so  per- 
verted or  ill-regulated,  as  to  injure  instead  of 
profiting. 

"  We  hear  much  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
age.  Well ;  but  has  not  one  of  its  own  poets 
(Tennyson)  said,  *  Knowledge  comes,  but  wis- 
dom lingers?'  Yes,  knowledge  comes,  but 
wisdom  lingers  !  Knowledge  comes,  but  good- 
ness lingers.    Knowledge  comes,  but  the  world 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    263 

is  as  far  as  ever  from  peace  and  righteousness. 
Its  wounds  are  not  healed ;  its  tears  do  not 
cease  to  flow.  Its  crimes  are  not  fewer ;  its 
morals  are  not  purer ;  its  diseases  are  as 
many  and  as  fatal.  Its  nations  are  not  more 
prosperous ;  its  kingdoms  not  more  stable ; 
its  rulers  are  not  more  magnanimous  ;  its 
homes  are  not  happier  ;  its  ties  of  kindred  or 
affection  are  not  more  blessed  or  lasting.  The 
thorn  still  springs,  and  the  brier  spreads ; 
famine  scorches  its  plains,  and  the  pestilence 
envenoms  the  air ;  the  curse  still  blights  cre- 
ation, and  the  wilderness  has  not  yet  rejoiced 
or  blossomed.  Yet  man  is  doing  his  utmost 
to  set  right  the  world,  and  God  is  allowing 
him  to  put  forth  all  his  efforts  more  vigorously 
and  more  simultaneously  than  ever,  in  these 
last  days. 

"  There  is  a  secret  consciousness  of  the  evil 
of  the  times,  even  among  those  who  have  not 
the  fear  of  God  before  their  eyes.  They  see 
but  the  surface,  indeed ;  and  yet  that  surface 
is  not  quite  so  calm  and  bright  as  they  could 
desire,  nor  are  the  effects  of  the  supposed 
progress  quite  so  satisfactory  as  they  expected 
they  would  be.  They  have  their  misgivings, 
though  they  cheer  themselves  with  the  thought 
that  the  mind  of  man  will  ere  long  be  able  to 
master  all  difficulties,  and  rectify  all  the  still 


264  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

remaining  disorders  of  the  world.  Accord- 
ingly, they  set  themselves  in  their  own  way 
to  help  forward  the  regeneration  of  the  world 
and  the  correction  of  its  evils. 

"  Among  these  there  are  various  classes,  or 
subdivisions.  There  is,  for  example,  the  edu- 
cational class.  It  labours  hard  to  raise  the  level 
of  society  by  the  mere  impartation  of  intel- 
lectual knowledge — ^  useful  knowledge,'  *  sci- 
entific knowledge,'  *  entertaining  knowledge,' 
*  political  knowledge ;'  in  short,  knowledge  of 
any  kind,  save  that  of  the  Bible,  and  of  the 
God  of  the  Bible.  There  is  the  novelistic  class  ; 
a  very  large  one  it  is,  and  possessed  of  far 
greater  influence  over  the  community  than  is 
generally  credited.  It  has  set  itself  to  ele- 
vate the  race  by  exciting  what  are  conceived 
to  be  the  purer  feelings  of  our  nature.  Of 
one  school,  the  standard  of  perfection  is  ro- 
mantic tenderness;  of  another,  worldly  hon- 
our; of  another,  bare  rectitude  of  character, 
without  reference  to  such  a  being  as  God,  or 
such  a  thing  as  his  law ;  of  another,  it  is  good- 
nature and  Christmas  festivity ;  while  others 
seem  to  have  no  real  centre  of  elevation  in 
view — only  they  hope,  by  stimulating  some  of 
our  finer  feelings  into  growth,  to  choke  or 
weaken  our  grosser  and  more  hateful.  There 
is  the  poetical  class.     They  think,  by  the  in- 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    265 

culcation  of  high  thoughts  and  noble  images, 
to  lift  up  the  world  to  its  proper  level.  With 
one  school,  it  is  the  worship  of  nature ;  with 
another,  it  is  the  love  of  the  beautiful ;  with 
another,  it  is  chivalry  ;  with  another,  it  is  the 
reenthronement  of  '  the  gods  of  Greece  f  with 
another,  sentimental  musings.  These,  and 
such  as  these,  are  the  devices  by  which  they 
hope  to  put  evil  to  flight,  and  bring  back  the 
age  of  gold !  There  is  the  satirical  class. 
Their  plan  for  meliorating  the  world  is  ridi- 
cule. Folly,  vice,  misrule,  are  to  be  carica- 
tured in  order  to  be  eradicated !  Ply  men 
with  enough  of  ridicule  ;  just  show  them  how 
ridiculous  they  are,  or  can  be  made ;  raise  the 
laugh  or  the  sneer  against  them  ;  exhibit  them 
in  all  the  exaggerated  attitudes  that  the 
genius  of  grimace  can  invent,  and  all  will  be 
well !  Th e re  is  the  philosophie  class — large  and 
powerful,  composed  of  men  who  are  no  triflers 
certainly,  but  who  are  sadly  without  aim  or 
anchorage.  Give  them  but  *  earnestness,'  and 
on  that  fulcrum  they  will  heave  up  a  fallen 
world  into  its  true  height  of  excellence ! 
Give  them  but  earnestness,  and  then  extrava- 
gance, mysticism,  mythism,  pantheism,  so  far 
from  being  condemned  as  ruinous,  are  wel- 
comed as  so  many  forces  operating  at  different 
points   for   the   anticipated   elevation.     Give 


266  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

them  earnestness,  and  they  will  do  without 
revelation :  or  give  them  *  universal  intui- 
tion/ and  the  J,  setting  it  up  as  the  judge  of 
inspiration,  will  make  man  his  own  regener- 
ator by  making  him  the  fountain-head  of  truth. 
There  is  the  political  class.  They  have  their 
many  cures  for  the  evils  of  society,  and  are 
quite  sure  that,  by  better  government,  a  wider 
franchise,  freer  trade,  the  abolition  of  ranks, 
the  division  of  property,  they  will  bring  all 
into  order  and  peace ;  as  if  these  could  touch 
the  seat  of  the  disease,  or  minister  to  the  real 
wants  of  a  helpless  and  heart-broken  world." 

Our  author  proceeds  to  other  phases  of  the 
age.     He  says : — 

"  Along  with  progress  the  age  boasts  of  its 
liberality ;  identifying  liberality  and  liberal- 
ism. Let  us  see  how  far  it  can  make  its 
boasting  good.  True  liberality  is  a  blessed 
thing,  for  it  is  but  another  name  for  the  love 
that  *  beareth  all  things,'  that  *  thinketh  no 
evil,'  that  *  rejoice th  not  in  iniquity,  but  re- 
joiceth  in  the  truth.'  With  this,  however,  the 
liberality  of  the  age  has  nothing  in  common. 
Its  essence  is,  indifference  to  sin  and  error. 
Its  object  is,  to  smooth  down  the  distinctions 
between  good  and  evil ;  between  holiness  and 
sin ;  between  the  Church  and  the  world ;  be- 
tween Protestantism  and  Popery ;  between  the 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    267 

belief  of  God's  word  and  infidelity  or  atheism. 
%11  its  sayings  and  doings  in  government,  in 
the  legislature,  in  society,  in  corporations  or 
private  intercourse,  are  based  upon  the  axiom 
that  there  is  no  real  difference  between  these 
things,  or,  at  least,  that  if  there  be,  it  is  not 
discoverable  by  man  ;  so  that  man  is  not  only 
not  responsible  for  acting  upon  it,  but  that  it 
would  be  intolerance  and  presumption  in  him 
to  do  so.  Kings  are  therefore  to  rule  as  if 
there  were  no  such  distinction,  forgetting  by 
Avhom  they  reign.  Judges  are  to  know  no 
such  distinction,  forgetting  that  they  are  to 
judge  *  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.'  Society  is  to 
be  constructed  without  reference  to  any  such 
distinction  ;  as  if  the  Bible  were  not  the  basis 
of  all  society ;  as  if  the  Book  which  God  has 
w^ritten  were  unsuitable  for  the  regulation  of 
the  world  which  he  created.  But  is  not  this 
calling  good  evil,  and  evil  good — putting  dark- 
ness for  light,  and  light  for  darkness — putting 
bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet  for  bitter  ?" 

If  I  am  not  blind  to  the  true  indications 
of  the  public  morals,  iniquity,  in  its  various 
forms,  is  becoming  fearfully  prevalent  and 
impudent.  Just  look  at  the  snares  which  are 
set  for  the  feet  of  our  youth,  and  the  fatal 
success  which  follows  them. 

Passing  over — as  too  loathsome  and  indeli- 


2G8  MANLY  CHAEACTER. 

cate  for  description — the  dens  of  vice  wliich 
are  situated  behind  the  screen,  secreted  froi» 
the  public  eye,  I  will  invite  attention  to  the 
machinery  which  is  constantly  before  our  eyes, 
employed  in  manufacturing  victims  for  these 
abominable  retreats. 

The  first  of  this  class  which  I  Avill  notice 
is  the  liquor-selling  establishments.  These 
are  scattered  over  the  country  everywhere — 
but  are  especially  abundant  and  active  in  our 
cities.  It  is  not  the  low  groggeries  which  are 
the  most  dangerous  to  the  unsuspecting,  but 
it  is  the  splendid  saloons,  with  painted  win- 
dows and  elegant  furniture.  Here  the  gins 
are  set  for  the  feet  of  the  unsuspecting,  con- 
cealed, at  least  in  a  measure,  from  the  view. 
Here  the  way  to  poverty,  disease,  and  death — 
ay,  and  the  way  to  hell! — is  strewed  with 
flowers,  and  ornamented  with  all  that  is  pleas- 
ing in  the  refinements  of  art  and  the  inspira- 
tion of  music.  Activity,  gayety,  and  mirth 
are  here.  Old  friendships  are  strengthened 
and  new  ones  formed,  and  wit  and  beauty  are 
laid  under  contribution  to  gild  the  scene. 
Here  it  is  that  the  taste  is  contracted,  and 
the  associations  formed,  which  lead  to  con- 
firmed habits  of  intemperance,  and  prepare 
the  candidates  for  the  honours  of  drunkenness, 
to  graduate  doivnwardy  to   the   filthy   holes, 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    269 

wliere  some  one,  in  the  shape  of  a  man — or  a 
woman — deals  out  death  and  perdition,  at  a 
penny  a  drink  !  The  schools  of  intemperance 
reverse  the  ordinary  course  of  things.  They 
graduate  their  pupils  upon  the  descending 
scale;  they  begin  high,  and  end  low.  The 
first  class  are  composed  of  fine  gentlemen — at 
least  decent  and  respectable  citizens — perhaps 
of  the  young  men  of  our  best  families.  They 
begin  with  champagne,  and  proceed  through 
the  various  classes  of  wines,  brandy,  Holland 
gin,  old  Jamaica,  down  to  Irish  and  American 
^vhisky,  applejack,  old  hard  cider,  Albany  ale, 
and  strong  beer.  They  begin  with  mirth  and 
gayety,  and  descend  to  headache  and  heart- 
ache. They  commence  with  a  clear  under- 
standing, strong  nerves,  and  a  steady  step, 
and  go  down  to  delirium  tremens.  They  start 
with  a  seat  upon  a  splendid  sofa,  and  hasten 
on  to  the  gutter.  They  commence  with  an 
entrance  upon  the  devil's  ground,  under  the 
strongest  protestations  that  they  will  never 
swerve  a  hair's  breadtli  from  the  line  of  pro- 
priety, and  with  a  tolerable  stock  of  consci- 
entiousness, but  end  in  a  drunkard's  grave, 
and  a  drunkard's  hell. 

Turn  your  attention  from  the  groggeries  to 
the  theatres,  Tliese  institutions  are  made  at- 
tractive to  the  eye,  the  ear,  and  the  depraved 


270  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

heart.  Their  professed  object  is  to  amuse  and 
instruct ;  but  the  real  one  is  to  cater  to  the 
depraved  taste  of  the  vicious,  the  idle,  and  the 
restless.  The  morality  of  the  stage  has  al- 
ways been  more  than  doubtful ;  at  present  it 
is  a  fixed  fact,  that  its  entire  machinery 
and  appendages  are  sadly  destructive  of  good 
morals.  The  moral  deformity  of  these  schools 
of  vice  is  indeed  covered  over  with  beautiful 
drapery.  The  unwary  are  interested  and 
charmed,  amused  and  tickled,  that  they  may 
receive  a  stab  which  will  prostrate  them  for- 
ever. They  are  fattened  and  pampered  against 
the  day  of  slaughter,  when  they  are  to  be  laid 
upon  the  altar  of  some  filthy  divinity. 

What  parent  would  be  willing  to  subject 
his  children  to  such  influences  as  those  which 
surround  the  stage  ?  Who  can  observe  the 
immense  amount  of  capital  invested  in  thea- 
tres in  our  cities,  and  the  vast  patronage  ex- 
tended to  them,  without  serious  concern  for 
the  rising  generation  ?  Who  would  attend 
theatrical  exhibitions  for  the  purpose  of  im- 
proving his  understanding  or  heart  ?  The 
very  idea  is  absurd.  Did  any  one  ever  leave 
a  play  with  stronger  convictions  of  duty,  a 
hio:her  sense  of  moral  obligation,  a  diminution 
of  his  evil  propensities,  or  more  power  over 
the  evils  of  his  nature  than  before  he  witnessed 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    271 

the  scene?  Moreover,  who  ever  improved  his 
fortune  by  theatre-going?  These  questions 
can  only  be  answered  in  one  way.  I  am 
strongly  tempted  to  continue  my  observations 
much  farther,  but  must  here  desist.  My  object 
is  a  word  of  caution  to  the  heedless  youth  who 
may  be  inclined  to  put  himself  in  the  way  of 
danger — perhaps  certain  ruin.  To  such  I 
would  address  the  words  of  Solomon  :  "  Enter 
not  into  the  path  of  the  wicked,  and  go  not  in 
the  way  of  evil  men.  Avoid  it,  pass  not  by 
it,  turn  from  it,  and  pass  away.  For  they 
sleep  not,  except  they  have  done  mischief; 
and  their  sleep  is  taken  away,  unless  they 
cause  some  to  fall.  For  they  eat  the  bread 
of  wickedness,  and  drink  the  wine  of  violence. 
But  the  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining 
light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the 
perfect  day.  The  way  of  the  wicked  is  as  dark- 
ness ;  they  know  not  at  what  they  stumble.^^ 

I  shall  close  this  lecture  with  a  brief  allu- 
sion to  a  subject  upon  which  a  volume  might 
be  written.  Perhaps  the  leading  fact  which 
will  give  character  to  this  age,  upon  the  re- 
cords of  future  history,  is  the  discovery  of 
vast  mines  of  gold  on  the  Pacific  coast.  Al- 
ready this  event  is  opening  a  multitude  of 
new  avenues  to  wealth,  and  afiPecting  tlie  com- 
merce of  the  world.     Not  pretending  to  doubt 


27-2 


MANLY  CHARACTER. 


but  that  this  wonderful  discovery  is  under  the 
guidance  of  Divine  Providence,  and  will  be 
overruled  for  great  and  good  purposes,  still  it 
brings  with  it  emergencies  and  dangers  which 
can  but  deeply  impress  thoughtful  minds. 
I  introduce  this  subject  not  merely  for  the 
benefit  of  those  young  men  who  will  float  off 
westward  with  the  tide  of  adventurers  to  seek 
their  fortune,  but  for  more  general  purposes 
This  new  and  vast  source  of  wealth  will  nec- 
essarily be  attended  with  various  and  serious 
evils  to  the  community  generally,  but  especially 
to  our  young  men.  Wealth  acquired  rapidly, 
without  the  ordinary  process  of  preparation 
for  it,  has  a  tendency  to  impress  the  mind 
and  heart  with  false  views  of  the  world  and 
of  the  value  and  right  use  of  money.  It  leads 
to  excessive  expenditures,  luxury,  pride,  the 
love  of  money,  hardness  of  heart,  undue  re- 
gard to  self,  and  the  extinguishment  of  the 
sympathies  of  the  soul  for  the  poor  and  the 
wretched.  Eiches,  under  any  circumstances, 
have  a  tendency  to  sensualize  the  soul ;  that 
is,  to  make  it  insensible  to  all  other  interests 
but  those  of  this  world.  Moral  considerations 
are  lost  sight  of,  when  wealth  becomes  the 
paramount  object.  There  is  a  natural  ten- 
dency in  riches  to  take  possession  of  the  heart ; 
but  there  is  especial  danger  of  this  when  they 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  0¥  THE  TIMES.    273 

are  suddenly  acquired.  The  history  of  the 
world  affords  ample  illustrations  of  the  fact, 
tliat  the  slow  process  of  acquiring  wealth  by 
the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  is  attended  with 
infinitely  less  hazard  than  the  sudden  accumu- 
lation of  a  fortune  by  commercial  enterprises. 
The  vast  influx  of  wealth,  through  some  sud- 
denly developed  channel,  has  always  been 
attended  by  luxury,  effeminacy,  and  the  whole 
family  of  vices.  The  morals  of  the  youth 
have  always  suffered  from  this  cause,  and  the 
result  in  some  cases  has  been  the  ruin  of  the 
State. 

The  propensity  to  overreaching,  swindling, 
and  oppressing  the  poor — to  take  all  possible 
advantages  of  men's  necessities — is  another 
f  r  ui  t  of  wealth  suddenly  acqui  red.  Upon  these 
immoralities  I  cannot  enlarge.  A  graphic 
writer  gives  us  the  following  striking  view  of 
the  subject : — 

"  Gold,  well  gotten,  is  bright  and  fair ;  but 
there  is  gold  which  rusts  and  cankers.  The 
stores  of  the  man  who  walks  according  to  the 
will  of  God,  are  under  a  special  blessing ;  but 
the  stores  which  have  been  unjustly  gathered 
are  accursed.  *  Your  gold  and  your  silver  is 
cankered;  and  the  rust  of  them  shall  be  a  wit- 
ness against  you,  and  shall  eat  up  your  flesh 
as  fire.'     Far  better  have  no  gold  at  all,  than 

18 


274  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

gold  with  that  curse  upon  it.  Far  better  let 
cold  pinch  this  frame,  or  hunger  gnaw  it,  than 
that  the  rust  of  ill-gotten  gold  should  eat  it 
up  as  fire/^ — The  Successful  Merchant,  hy  Bev. 
William  Ai^thur, 

As  gold  increases,  commerce  enlarges  its 
sphere,  and  a  tide  of  wealth  comes  in  upon  us  ; 
temptations  will  be  multiplied,  worldly  ex- 
citement will  inflame  the  passions  of  the 
masses,  and  the  young  and  ardent  will  stand 
a  fair  chance  to  be  early  victims  to  the  raging 
fever,  which  will  be  as  contagious  and  as  fatal 
as  the  plague.  The  question,  ''  How  shall  I 
become  independently  rich  ?"  will  absorb  the 
whole  attention.  Usefulness,  happiness,  every- 
thing, will  be  left  out  of  sight — while  the 
miserable  passion  for  wealth  hurries  its  victim 
on,  with  a  sort  of  insane  fury,  to  the  goal  he 
seeks.  Under  such  an  influence,  moral  mo- 
tives lose  their  power.  The  conscience  becomes 
first  blinded,  then  hardened — yea  seared.  The 
young  adventurer  drives  on  in  his  course 
without  either  the  guidance  of  moral  principle 
or  sound  discretion,  until  lie  becomes  a  moral 
wreck.  His  reputation,  his  prospects  for  this 
world,  and  his  hopes  for  the  future,  are  all 
buried  together  in  some  haunt  of  vice,  and  his 
memory  is  blotted  out. 

The  spirit — I  might  say  the  fanaticism — of 


TRUE  MANHOOD  THE  WANT  OF  THE  TIMES.    275 

tlie  wreckless  adventurer  of  these  times,  being 
both  irrational  and  morally  wrong,  is  sure  to 
end  in  ruin.  If  he  succeeds  in  acquiring 
wealth,  he  is  ruined  by  the  love  of  money  and 
the  pride  of  its  possession  ;  and  if  he  does  not 
succeed,  he  is  ruined  by  the  mortification  and 
desperation  of  disappointment.  His  mad  ex- 
citement is  a  maelstrom,  from  whose  fatal 
circles  escape  is  almost  impossible.  How  many 
young  men  have  been  drawn  into  it,  and  sunk 
to  rise  no  more  forever  !  Their  sad  memorials 
are  scattered  all  along  the  Pacific  coast,  and 
their  friends — perhaps  their  aged  "parents — live 
to  lament  their  folly,  and  execrate  the  "  lust 
of  gold.'' 

Such  is  our  age — such  are  its  perils.  Now, 
young  gentlemen,  take  a  view  of  the  prospect 
— survey  the  ground  wisely  and  thoroughly — 
and  see  what  course  will  be  dictated  by  the 
maxims  of  common  prudence.  That  those 
who  are  to  contend  with  the  fierce  and  stormy 
elements  of  these  times,  will  need  special 
qualifications,  you  cannot  for  a  moment  doubt. 
If  you  would  not  make  shipwreck  of  your 
prospects  of  usefulness  and  happiness — if  you 
would  take  your  appropriate  place  in  the  fierce 
struggle  upon  which  you  are  about  to  enter 
— if  you  would  help  to  save  the  world  from 
the  influence  of  the  destructive  elements  which 


276  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

are  at  work — if  you  would  be  prepared  for 
the  emergencies  of  the  times  upon  which  Provi- 
dence has  cast  your  lot — you  must  show  your- 
selves men.  If  in  any  past  age  intellectual 
and  moral  feebleness  would  be  sufficient  for 
existing  exigencies,  such  is  not  the  case  now — 
such  will  never  be  the  case  again  to  the  end 
of  time.  The  day  of  mighty  activity  has 
broke,  and  is  never  to  close  but  with  the 
termination  of  the  evils  of  this  world,  and  the 
renovation  of  the  race. 


-.JXlX^Jtm^ 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  277 


XI.-THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES. 

"young  MEX  likewise  EXHOrwT  TO  BE  SOBER-MINDED." — TITUS 

n,  6. 

"  FOR  WHICH  OF  YOU,  INTENDING  TO  BUILD  A  TOWER,  SITTETH 
NOT  DOWN  FIRST,  AND  COUNTETH  THE  COST,  WHETHER  HE 
HAVE  SUFFICIENT  TO  FINISH  IT  ?  LEST  HAPLY  AFTER  HE  HATH 
LAID  THE  FOUNDATION,  AND  IS  NOT  ABLE  TO  FINISH  IT,  ALL 
THAT  BEHOLD  IT  BEGIN  TO  MOCK  HIM,  SAYING,  THIS  MAN 
BEGAN  TO  BUILD,  AND  WAS  NOT  ABLE  TO  FINISH.  OR  WHAT 
KING,  GOING  TO  MAKE  WAR  AGAINST  ANOTHER  KING,  SITTETH 
NOT  DOWN  FIRST,  AND  CONSULTETH  WHETHER  HE  BE  ABLE 
WITH  TEN  THOUSAND  TO  MEET  HIM  THAT  COMETH  AGAINST 
HIM  WITH  TWENTY  THOUSAND  ?  OR  ELSE,  WHILE  THE  OTHER 
IS  YET  A  GREAT  WAY  OFF,  HE  SENDETH  AN  AMBASSAGE,  AND 
DESIRETH  CONDITIONS  OF  PEACE." — LUKE  XIV,  28-32. 

In  this  lecture  I  shall  endeavour  to  give  you 
some  thoughts  upon  the  subject  of  adjustment 
or  adaptation  to  the  circumstances  of  the 
times.  Upon  this,  my  young  friends,  much 
will  depend,  and  without  it  your  future  is  not 
by  any  means  promising.  By  what  means 
you  will  be  able  to  meet  your  responsibilities, 
and  adjust  yourselves  to  the  peculiar  features 
of  the  age,  is  the  great  question  which  I  now 
propose  to  discuss,  and  to  which  I  hope  to 
have  your  earnest  attention. 

You  are  soon  to  enter  the  arena,  and  to 
contend  for  the  prize  of  a  good,  substantial, 
practical  character.  You  should  well  con- 
sider what  is  before  you,  and  be  thoroughly 


278  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

prepared  for  all  emergencies.  It  will  not  do 
for  you  to  enter  upon  the  active  duties  of  life 
without  a  knowledge  of  these  duties — a  knowl- 
edge of  all  their  special  relations  and  bear- 
ings, of  the  difficulties  which  they  involve,  the 
qualifications  they  demand,  and  the  issues 
which  depend  upon  them.  It  w^ould  be  absurd 
for  any  one  to  undertake  a  clerkship  without 
a  knowledge  of  figures — to  assume  the  com- 
mand of  a  ship,  without  a  knowledge  of  navi- 
gation— to  attempt  to  discharge  the  duties  of 
an  advocate,  without  the  study  of  law — or  those 
of  a  clergyman,  without  the  knowledge  of  di- 
vinity— or  for  an  actor  to  ascend  the  stage, 
without  previous  drilling.  All  these  would 
be  absurdities  almost  too  glaring  to  be  sup- 
posed possible  ;  and  yet  they  are  scarcely  more 
at  war  with  common  sense  and  common  j)ru- 
dence,  than  would  be  the  course  of  the  young 
man  who  would  consent  to  enter  upon  the 
theatre  of  action  without  due  preparation. 
He  should  certainly  know  what  he  is  going 
about ;  lest,  like  an  unsuccessful  actor,  he 
should  be  hooted  from  the  stage.  Would  you 
not  disgrace  yourselves  and  your  friends,  you 
must  prepare  for  a  manly  struggle.  You  are 
about  to  enter  the  lists  and  contend  for  the 
prize  in  the  presence  of  thousands  of  anxious 
cind  eagle-eyed  spectators  ;  will  yon  "  fight  as 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  279 

one  who  beateth  the  air  ?  ^^  The  race  you  are 
to  run  will  require  your  utmost  speed ;  will 
you  not  "  lay  aside  every  weight  T^  Let  us 
now  endeavour  to  ascertain  what  will  qualify 
you  for  the  great  struggle. 

What  I  have  presented  in  the  preceding 
lectures,  upon  the  formation  of  a  manly  char- 
acter, embraces  a  great  variety  of  important 
maxims  which  will  require  your  serious  con- 
sideration, and  which,  if  properly  heeded,  will 
go  far  towards  a  preparation  for  active  life  in 
any  state  of  society.  What  I  now  have  to 
say  will  be  partly  of  a  more  specific  character, 
having  special  relation  to  the  indications  and 
demands  of  the  times  upon  which  you  are 
cast,  and  the  country  in  which  you  live — and 
partly  of  a  more  general  nature,  embracing 
the  combination  and  application  of  the  par- 
ticular instructions  previously  given. 

"  You  must  prepare  to  live  by  taking  up 
and  fixing  in  your  raind  in  early  youth,  cer- 
tain great  principles,  which  unquestionably 
will  not  grow  and  establish  themselves  there 
spontaneously.  Such,  for  instance,  as  that  in 
all  things  and  all  events,  God  is  to  be  obey- 
ed ;  that  there  is  an  essential  distinction  be- 
tween sin  and  holiness,  in  all  conduct,  both 
within  the  mind  and  without ;  and  that  sin, 
whatever  temporal  advantages  or  pleasures  it 


280  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

may  yield,  is  absolutely  a  dreadful  evil,  and 
ought  to  be  avoided  ;  that  nothing  ought  to 
be  done  which  must  afterwards  be  repented 
of ;  that  judgment  and  conscience  must  always 
prevail  over  inclination  ;  that  no  good  in  any- 
thing is  to  be  expected  without  effort  and  la- 
bour ;  that  we  must  never  put  off  till  futurity 
what  can  and  ought  to  be  done  in  the  present ; 
that  what  ought  not  to  be  done  twice,  should 
not  be  done  once;  that  what  should  be  done 
at  all,  should  be  always  well  done ;  and  that 
tlie  future  should  predominate  over  tlie  pres- 
ent.'^— J,  A,  James.  Young  3Ian\s  Friend 
and  Guide  tJirovgh  Life  to  Immortaliti/. 

It  will  be  obvious  that  tliorough  prepara- 
tion for  the  duties  ""of  an  active  member  of 
society  will  require,  an  accurate  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  state  and  tendencies  of  the 
public  mind  at  the  time  when,  and  in  the 
country  where,  you  are  destined  to  be  an 
actor. 

In  the  preceding  lecture  we  have  briefly 
surveyed  the  aspects  of  the  times — the  facts 
and  circumstances  which  must  be  taken  into 
account  in  an  estimate  of  the  peculiar  quali- 
fications of  an  actor  in  the  scenes  of  tlie  future. 
The  tliorough  study  of  the  mind  and  heart 
of  the  present  generation  of  men,  will  be  in- 
dispensable.    The  future  is  foreshadowed  by 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  281 

the  present.  At  least  it  is  morally  certain 
that  the  next  generation  will  be  in  advance 
of  the  present  in  its  intellectual  elevation,  and 
not  behind  it  in  activity.  With  the  prospective 
progress  in  commerce  and  national  wealth, 
we  may  also  be  sure  that  the  imminent  dan- 
gers of  the  present  will  be  enhanced  with  the 
lapse  of  time.  It  will  consequently  be  safe 
to  take  our  gauge  of  the  demands  which  will  be 
made  upon  you,  young  gentlemen,  from  the 
existing  state  of  society.  Turn  your  eyes 
then  upon  the  prospect  before  you,  guided  by 
the  light  of  existing  facts,  and  the  history  of 
the  past.  See  the  intelligence  with  Avhich  you 
will  be  associated,  and  with  which  you  must 
compete  ;  carefully  mark  the  immense  activity 
of  the  masses ;  see  the  intense  excitement 
which  everywhere  prevails  ;  look  at  the  rapid 
pulsations  of  the  public  heart,  indicated  in  the 
flushed,  cheek,  hurried  utterance,  and  quick 
step  of  all  you  meet ;  observe  the  radicalism, 
the  ultraisms,  the  recklessness,  the  destructive- 
ness,  which  mark  the  movements  of  our  great 
reformers ;  consider  well  the  moral  phases  of 
society,  the  religious  indifference,  the  heart- 
less infidelity,  the  love  of  money,  the  intem- 
perance, swindling,  robbery,  and  murders,  so 
fearfully  rife  everywhere  ;  look  at  the  inroads 
of  Popery  on  tlie  one  hand,  and  Socialism  on 


282  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

the  other;  and  with  all  this  complication 
of  circumstances — not  to  say  anomalies — ask 
yourselves  whether  the  man  for  the  times  must 
not  possess  rare  qualifications  of  body,  intel- 
lect, and  heart. 

The  whole  scene  must  be  surveyed  with 
the  eye  of  a  philosopher  and  a  Christian. 
The  relations  and  dependencies  of  the  facts 
before  you,  their  causes  and  their  practical 
results,  must  be  thoroughly  studied.  A  mere 
glance  at  the  most  prominent  facts  which  are 
transpiring  day  after  day  will  not  do.  They 
must  be  analyzed  and  sifted ;  they  must  be 
viewed  in  every  possible  light.  The  current 
events  of  the  day  must  be  so  thoroughly 
studied  as  to  be  connected  with  great  general 
issues,  and  to  furnish  the  means  of  important 
inductions  with  regard  to  the  great  future. 
When  you  mark  the  extraordinary  features 
of  this  age,  you  should  ask  with  solicitude : 
Whereunto  will  all  this  grow?  What  prac- 
tical lesson  does  it  teach?  What  special 
obligation  does  it  impose  ?  What  is  it  to 
me? 

To  acquire  the  information  which  I  here 
urge,  a  young  man  must  be  a  careful  and 
diligent  observer  of  men  and  things — of  man- 
ners and  habits — of  the  developments  and 
tendencies  of  the  mind  of  the  nation,  and  the 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  283 

mind  of  the  world.  He  must  read,  converse, 
and  think,  and  be  sure  that  he  does  more  of 
the  last  than  of  the  two  preceding.  Would 
you  have  the  suitable  qualifications  to  act  in 
relation  to  existing  circumstances,  you  must 
be  an  independent  thinker — must  be  no  man's 
mouth-piece,  copy  no  one.  Mere  apes  we  have 
in  abundance ;  but  men  of  independent  thought 
are  too  rare  in  these  days.  Eeading  is  com- 
mon, gossip  is  abundant — but  reflection  and 
study  are  nearly  given  up  to  the  class  which 
have  no  use  for  them,  such  as  take  no  part  in 
the  busy  scenes  of  life.  Our  active  business- 
men read  the  newspapers,  and  keep  up  with 
the  progress  of  the  market,  state  of  stocks, 
imports  and  exports  ;  but  what  all  the  turmoil 
of  modern  society  is  to  result  in,  they  scarcely 
give  a  thought.  As  for  elaborate  reading,  that 
is  quite  too  uninteresting — and  hard  thinking^ 
excepting  about  dollars  and  cents,  and  the 
chances  of  loss  and  gain,  is  to  them  head- 
breaking  drudgery.  How  little  they  are  likely 
to  appreciate  the  signs  of  the  times,  will  be 
sufficiently  obvious. 

Commerce  and  business  have  an  influence 
upon  the  intercourse  of  nations  and  upon  gen- 
eral civilization.  It  is  pitiable  for  men  of 
soul  and  genius  to  be  deeply  concerned  in  it 
without  ever  lookino;  bevond  the  influences  it 


284  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

exerts  upon  their  petty  pecuniary  interests. 
The  great  discoveries  of  the  age — the  use  of 
steam,  in  furnishing  facilities  for  travelling 
upon  land  and  for  crossing  the  ocean,  the  mag- 
netic telegraph,  and  the  results  of  geological, 
ethnological,  and  antiquarian  investigations — 
all  have  great  ends  in  prospect.  They  are 
already  working  vast  changes  in  the  state  of 
society,  and  quickening  the  pulsations  of  the 
world.  Those  who  consider  these  great  exhi- 
bitions of  human  genius  as  mere  facilities  for 
business  and  avenues  of  wealth,  have  taken  a 
miserably  contracted  view  of  the  subject,  and 
cannot  be  said  to  have  entered  at  all  into  the 
spirit  of  these  momentous  times.  Their  views 
are  exceedingly  narrow,  and  show  an  utter 
want  of  adjustment  to  the  actual  condition  of 
things.  Would  you,  young  gentlemen,  pre- 
pare yourselves  to  fill  only  a  respectable  posi- 
tion, you  must  take  broad  and  far-reaching 
views  of  the  advances  and  changes  of  society 
— you  must  consider  the  present  in  connexion 
with  the  future ;  you  must  not  isolate  the 
natural  and  material  from  the  moral  and  spir- 
itual— you  must  look  above  the  mere  changes 
and  revolutions  which  are  passing  about  you, 
to  the  wise  supervision  which  sits  enthroned 
in  heaven  ;  you  must  consider  the  visible  as 
intimately  related  to  the  invisible,  and  time 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  285 

as  destined  to  merge  itself  in  eternity.  Such 
are  the  views  necessary  to  a  man  for  the  times. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  will  obviously 
be  suggested  that  the  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities which  will  devolve  upon  the  young 
men  of  these  times  will  require  untiring  in- 
dustry. 

We  have  seen  that  activity  constitutes  the 
leading  feature  of  this  age.  Men  are  unpre- 
cedentedly  active,  and  the  very  laws  of  the 
material  universe  seem  to  sympathize  with 
men  in  this  disposition.  While  the  whole  world 
is  moving  on,  can  you  remain  in  a  state  of 
quiescence?  Evil  agencies  are  unboundedly 
active.  "  The  devil,  like  a  roaring  lion,  goeih 
about  seeking  Avhom  he  may  devour  f^  and  his 
subordinate  agents  are  active  like  himself. 
Truth  and  righteousness  on  foot,  will  be  hard 
set  to  keep  pace  with  error  and  sin  driven  by 
a  locomotive.  Those  engaged  in  working 
against  you,  and  against  the  best  interests 
of  society,  will  rise  early  and  sit  up  late,  and 
eat  the  bread  of  carefulness  ;  and  how  are 
you  to  make  head  against  them  without  the 
utmost  activity?  In  these  times  of  hurry 
and  bustle,  of  stir  and  excitement,  nothing 
can  be  done  to  purpose  without  great  exer- 
tions. Habits  of  industry  will  be  found  more 
than  ever  necessary  as  the  progress  of  the 


286  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

world  is  quickened,  and  society  becomes  more 
deeply  and  powerfully  moved  by  the  spirit  of 
the  age.  The  business  will  all  be  done  by 
the  active  and  enterprising,  and  the  tardy 
will  have  no  employment,  and,  consequently, 
no  bread.  All  the  places  of  honour  and  profit 
will  be  secured  early  in  the  morning,  while 
the  sluggard  is  sleeping  and  dreaming  of  the 
chances  of  fortune.  When  Adam  Clarke  was 
young,  he  saw  a  copy  of  the  Greek  Testament 
of  Erasmus  advertised.  Early  the  next  morn- 
ing he  hastened  to  the  place,  and  secured  it. 
Some  time  before  noon,  a  celebrated  scholar 
called,  and  inquired  for  the  book.  "You  are 
too  late ;  it  is  gone,''  was  the  reply.  "  Too 
late ! ''  exclaimed  the  gentleman ;  "  why  I  came 
as  soon  as  I  had  taken  my  breakfast.''  The 
answer  was:  "Adam  Clarke  came  and  pur- 
chased it  before  breaJcfast^^  So,  my  young 
friends,  if  you  would  win  the  prize  in  these 
times  of  enterprise  and  activity,  you  must 
be  on  the  alert — you  must  rise  early  and 
work  diligently — or,  just  as  you  fancy  you  are 
about  to  lay  hold  of  some  grand  object,  an- 
other will  seize  it ;  and  you  will  see  and  feel 
the  dreadful  import  of  that  sentence,  Itvas  too 
late !  While  I  delayed,  another  stepped  in 
and  superseded  me. 
I  would  Avarn  you,  young  gentlemen,  against 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  287 

habits  of  idleness,  as  the  most  certain  pre- 
cursors of  worthlessness  and  ruin.  It  is  mean 
and  degrading  to  be  idle,  and  just  as  bad  to  be 
employed  about  trifles.  For  a  young  man  to 
have  places  for  spending  an  idle  hour  in  play- 
ing at  games  of  chance,  or  in  unprofitable 
gossip,  is  disgraceful  and  ruinous.  Idleness 
is  the  parent  of  many  vices,  and  door-way  of 
a  thousand  temptations. 

A  nervous  and  elegant  writer,  whom  we  have 
already  several  times  quoted,  says  :  *'  An  indo- 
lent young  man  invites  temptation,  and  will 
soon  become  a  prey  to  it.  Indolence  unmans 
the  faculties,  impairs  and  debilitates  the  whole 
intellectual  system.  One  way  or  other,  be 
always  employed.  An  idle  man  is  the  most 
miserable  of  all  God's  creatures;  a  contra- 
diction to  nature,  where  nothing  is  at  rest. 
Among  all  other  habits  that  you  form,  next 
to  religion,  the  most  valuable  acquisition  is  a 
habit  of  activity.  This  must  be  got  in  youth, 
or  never.  Keep  the  ethereal  fire  in  your  soul 
alive  and  glowing  by  action.  The  diligent 
man  is  the  protected  man.  .Temptation  comes 
and  addresses  him,  but  he  is  preoccupied ; 
he  says,  *  I  am  too  busy  to  attend  to  you.^ 
Not  only  have  occupation,  but  love  it.  Let 
your  mind  take  a  pleasure  and  a  pride  in  its 
own  action.      Nature,  it   is   said,   abhors  a 


288  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

vacuum  ;  and  if  nature  does  not,  you  should." 
— James, 

Whatever  your  position  in  society  may  be, 
diligence  in  business  will  be  found  indispen- 
sable to  honourable  success.  If  you  engage  in 
a  profession,  close  application  to  business  only 
will  secure  public  confidence,  procure  you  busi- 
ness, make  you  useful  in  your  calling,  and 
insure  an  honourable  livelihood.  If  a  mer- 
chant, a  mechanic,  a  farmer,  or  anything  else 
that  you  can  be,  religiously  and  honourably, 
diligence  will  be  found  an  indispensable  con- 
dition of  success.  The  day  for  idlers  has 
passed,  and  the  race  is  nearly  extinct.  All 
the  lazy  drones  are  now  active  scamps,  except- 
ing indeed  those  of  the  class  who  may  have 
been  aroused  to  healthy  activity  by  the  awaken- 
ings of  conscience,  and  a  sound  conversion  to 
virtue  and  religion. 

The  next  qualification  in  a  man  for  the 
times,  which  I  shall  notice,  is  the  power  to 
adapt  himself  to  new  circumstances,  and  to 
meet  unexpected  emergencies. 

This  is  not  a  stereotyped  age,  and,  of  course, 
stereotyped  characters  are  not  in  demand. 
The  rapidity  with  which  things  change,  sug- 
gests the  necessity,  on  the  part  of  the  actors 
in  the  excited  and  hurried  scene,  of  the  power 
of  rapid  changes  in  our  plans  and  movements. 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  289 

The  young  man  who  has  prepared  himself 
for  acting  in  one  particular  way — for  moving- 
only  in  a  direct  line — will  soon  find  himself 
wide  of  the  track  of  events,  and  will  be  toler- 
ably sure  to  lose  sight  of  the  great  points  of 
interest.  He  may  move  with  promptness  and 
power,  but  his  efforts  tell  upon  no  practical 
object ;  he  may  perform  prodigies  of  labour, 
but  he  does  nothing  to  purpose ;  he  may  be 
exceedingly  busy,  but  bring  nothing  to  pass. 
A  skilful  general  watches  the  movements  of 
the  enemy,  and  lays  out  his  strength  where  it 
will  tell ;  he  concentrates  his  force  upon  the 
assailable  point.  His  tactics  vary  to  suit  the 
emergencies  of  the  battle.  We  have  a  good 
illustration  of  the  doctrine  of  adaptation 
in  that  part  of  American  history,  called 
"Braddock's  defeat.''  The  great  English 
general  undertook  to  fight  the  Indians,  in  the 
woods,  on  scientific  principles.  He  could  not 
be  persuaded  by  young  Washington,  the  sub- 
sequent hero  of  the  American  Ee volution,  to 
abandon  his  plan  of  a  regular  pitched  battle, 
and  of  marshalling  his  forces  in  solid  columns, 
the  very  arrangement  which  would  subject 
him  to  a  galling  fire  from  the  foe,  who  were 
concealed  behind  trees  and  crags,  and  who 
did  the  most  fatal  execution  without  exposing 
themselves  .to  danger.     Had  he  acted  upon 

19 


290  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

the  practical  and  common-sense  plan  proposed 
l)y  the  young  American  officer,  and  allowed 
liim,  with  his  *'  Eangers,"  to  "  scour  the  woods" 
with  trailed  arms,  he  might  have  saved  his 
own  honour  and  his  life. 

What  is  strength  worth — of  what  avail  is 
action — without  an  aim,  without  wise  direc- 
tion ?  The  more  active  and  noisy  a  man  is, 
the  more  dangerous,  unless  he  strikes  his 
hlows  at  the  proper  point.  Our  radical  re- 
formers, and  bustling  disorganizers,  are  the 
most  energetic  men  in  the  community.  Did 
they  lay  out  their  strength  and  activity  upon 
some  practicable  and  valuable  improvement, 
they  might  bring  upon  their  name  the  grati- 
tude of  posterity  ;  but  they  waste  them  upon 
impracticable  schemes.  A  practical  mind  will 
not  only  ask  itself.  What  ought  to  be  done  ? 
but  what  can  be  done  ?  and  what  can  be  done 
to  the  best  advantage  ?  What  should  be  done 
first?  What  will  result  in  the  greatest 
amount  of  good? 

The  real  practical  genius,  when  he  finds 
himself  w^orking  to  no  purpose,  and  sees  that 
the  great  end  of  life  can  be  secured  only  by  a 
change  of  policy  or  employment,  will  bend 
himself  to  the  circumstances.  Such  charac- 
ters are  always  needed,  but  especially  when 
changes  in  the  state  of  society,  and  in  the  re- 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  291 

sources  of  the  country,  are  sudden,  and  follow 
each  other  in  quick  succession.  The  American 
mind  seems  formed  for  rapid  evolutions — for 
adaptation  to  new  circumstances.  In  these 
times  of  new  discoveries,  new  scenes  of  action, 
new  phases  of  society,  new  enterprises,  new 
errors,  new  assaults  upon  truth,  new  tac- 
tics upon  the  part  of  all  classes  of  com- 
batants, the  power  of  adaptation  to  new  cir- 
cumstances seems  absolutely  essential  to  the 
actors  who  are  now  entering  upon  the  stage. 
Skilful  labourers  in  the  cause  of  humanity 
and  religion,  are  now  more  eminently  needed 
than  at  any  former  period  of  the  world's  his- 
tory. Mere  earnestness  and  sincerity  of  in- 
tentions will  not  do.  The  world  wants  talent 
that  will  conform  itself  to  the  infinite  variety 
of  forms  in  which  the  public  necessities  may 
present  themselves,  or  the  constantly  varying 
circumstances  Avhich  follow  the  rapid  march 
of  the  world,  and  the  revolutions  and  changes 
which  transpire  in  these  stirring  times. 

The  young  man  who  would  be  adequate  to 
the  demands  of  the  times,  must  acquire  a 
liberal  Christian  education. 

I  do  not  use  the  term  liberal  in  the  usual 
technical  sense,  for  an  education  at  college, 
but  as  implying  an  education  broad,  deep,  and 
thorough     A  young  man  may  acquire  a  lib- 


292  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

oral  education  without  graduating  at  college, 
and  a  graduate  at  college  may  not  be  half 
educated.  Then  school  education,  without 
Christian  ^principle,  will  do  but  little  towards 
preparing  one  for  the  great  moral  conflicts 
which  are  before  us.  General  and  secular 
education  has  its  importance,  but  it  is  the 
Christian  scholar  which  is  to  do  the  work  of 
this  age,  and  the  ages  which  are  to  come. 
Christian  schools  should  be  multiplied  and 
endowed,  and  our  students  in  these  schools 
should  be  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tian enterprise.  We  want  scholars  who 
have  hearts  as  well  as  heads — whose  moral 
powers  are  as  highly  educated  as  their  in- 
tellect. 

The  struggle  now  is  not  so  much  between 
knowledge  and  ignorance,  as  it  is  between  sin 
and  holiness,  vice  and  virtue.  Practical  in- 
fidelity is  becoming  bold  and  threatening. 
TJnsanctified  passions  and  pampered  appetites 
assume  the  reins,  and  dash  on  with  the  most 
destructive  power.  Wickedness  shows  its  head 
in  a  thousand  hideous  forms.  To  refoi^m  the 
world  morally  and  religiously,  is  the  great 
object  of  all  rational  philanthropy.  Hence 
the  demand  for  a  moral  instrumentality  as 
potent  and  as  wise  as  the  apostles  themselves. 
Mothers  and  fathers  should  labour  to  give 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  293 

their  children  deep  and  thorough  moral  and 
religious  convictions  and  impressions.  Edu- 
cation, both  at  home  and  at  school,  should  be 
eminently  religious.  Young  men,  under  what- 
ever mode  of  education,  should  become  learned 
in  the  science  of  godliness,  and  arm  them- 
selves against  all  corrupt  and  infidel  influences. 
They  need  a  mighty  depth  of  principle,  a 
towering  faith,  a  zeal  for  God  and  his  cause, 
a  spirit  of  sacrifice  and  self-denial,  a  love  of 
the  truth,  and  practical  wisdom,  equal  to  the 
greatest  possible  emergencies.  Your  educa- 
tion must  fit  you  to  meet  boldness  and  impu- 
dence in  wrong  doing  with  calm,  dignified 
firmness  ;  infidel  philosophy,  with  the  inspired 
truth  of  God^s  word  ;  sophistry,  with  sound 
reasoning ;  satanic  cunning,  with  the  wisdom 
which  Cometh  from  above  ;  human  tradition, 
with  the  sure  word  of  prophecy ;  formalism, 
with  spirituality ;  and  sin  and  corruption,  in 
all  their  forms,  with  a  holy  life  and  a  godly 
conversation.  You  must  be  learned  in  philos- 
ophy, learned  in  history,  learned  in  polemical 
divinity ;  but,  above  all,  must  you  be  learned 
in  the  Scriptures.  "  The  sword  of  the  Spirit, 
which  is  the  word  of  God,'^  is  the  great  de- 
sideratum in  the  armour  which  you  must 
"  take  to  yourselves." 

Another  qualification  in  a  man  for  the  times, 


294  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

is  a  thorough  and  extensive  acquaintance  with 
books. 

Reading  is,  perhaps,  the  leading  means  of 
knowledge.  We  can  gain  some  knowledge 
by  observation  and  conversation  ;  but  without 
reading,  the  compass  of  information  will  be 
exceedingly  limited,  and,  indeed,  altogether 
deficient.  Not  only  must  the  sciences  be 
studied  in  books,  but  a  great  part  of  that 
general  knowledge,  which  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  a  man  for  the  times,  can  be  attained 
only  through  books.  This  is  emphatically  an 
age  of  books.  Everybody  reads.  During  no 
period  of  the  world^s  history  have  publica- 
tions been  produced  in  such  profusion.  This 
fact  itself,  if  nothing  else,  is  proof  of  the 
demand  for  reading  matter.  Now,  printed 
pages  are  rained  down  in  indefinite  numbers 
and  variety — they  fall  upon  us  like  the  leaves 
of  autumn.  He  who  is  not  a  considerable 
reader,  will  soon  find  himself  unfit  for  good 
society,  and  altogether  "  behind  the  times.'' 
Diligent,  careful,  extensive  reading,  is  now 
necessary  to  the  man  of  business  as  well  as 
the  scholar  or  the  professional  gentleman.  If 
one  is  found  utterly  unacquainted  with  a  popu- 
lar book,  he  is  at  once  set  down  as  deficient 
in  taste  and  industry,  and  can  pass  for  noth- 
ing bettor  than  a  second  or  third-rate  man. 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  295 

I  would  by  no  means  urge  you,  young  gen- 
tlemen, to  read  all  the  books  and  periodicals 
which  are  issued  from  the  press — this  would 
be  physically  impossible.  Of  many  of  these 
you  only  need  know  their  title ;  of  many 
others,  all  you  need  be  informed  of  is  their 
table  of  contents  ;  of  some  others,  you  should 
be  acquainted  with  mere  portions.  Early  in 
my  history,  I  was  in  the  practice  of  reading 
nearly  every  book  which  I  commenced  entirely 
through.  Experience  finally  taught  me  that 
I  wasted  much  time  by  this  system.  Now 
when  I  find  this  plan  will  not  pay,  I  dismiss 
an  author  with  a  more  general  survey  of  the 
plan  of  the  work,  and  an  examination  of  such 
portions  only  as  promise  an  addition  to  my 
stock  of  ideas.  A  good  book  is  not  only  worth 
reading  through,  but  worthy  to  be  studied. 
Works  that  not  only  convey  important  in- 
formation, but  are  suggestive — giving  a  spring 
to  thought,  and  furnishing  themes  for  medi- 
tation, are  the  most  profitable,  and  should  be 
preferred.  Such  a  book  is  an  invaluable 
treasure,  and  may  often  be  re-read  many  times 
with  very  great  advantage.  Thoroughly  mas- 
tering the  contents  of  such  a  book,  and  im- 
bibing its  spirit,  will  really  do  more  towards 
furnishing  the  mind  for  action,  than  an  in- 
definite amount  of  careless  general  reading. 


296  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

Beading  merely  for  amusement  should  be 
indulged  in  with  great  caution,  if  at  all.  The 
frothy  productions  of  the  day,  which  are  mere- 
ly designed  to  cater  to  a  morbid  appetite,  are 
essentially  injurious.  1  have  already  touched 
this  subject,  and  must  not  here  enlarge  upon 
it.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that  life  is  too 
precious  to  be  spent — any  portion  of  it — in 
perusing  pages  which  in  no  sense  contribute 
to  our  better  preparation  for  usefulness  and 
happiness.  Upon  this  broad  ground  I  would 
discourage  merely  unprofitable  reading.  As 
to  the  publications  which  are  of  vicious  ten- 
dency, they  should  be  utterly  avoided,  for  the 
same  great  moral  reasons  which  would  keep 
you  from  dangerous  contact  with  the  worst  of 
human  beings.  A  book  is  a  companion,  and 
a  bad  book  is  the  most  dangerous  of  all  bad 
companions.  The  eloquent  Mr.  J.  A.  James, 
in  his  sermons  to  young  men,  gives  them  the 
following  earnest  admonition  upon  this  sub- 
ject :— 

"With  much  the  same  emphasis  [that  he 
had  cautioned  young  men  against  had  com- 
pany] do  I  warn  you  against  had  hooJcs;  the 
infidel  and  immoral  publications,  of  which 
such  a  turbid  deluge  is  now  flowing  from  the 
press,  and  depositing  on  the  land  a  soil  in 
which   the  seeds  of  all  evil  will   2:row  with 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  297 

rank  luxuriance.  Infidelity  and  immoralitj 
have  seized  upon  fiction  and  poetry,  and  are 
endeavouring  to  press  into  their  service  even 
science  and  the  arts.  But  besides  these,  books 
that  inflame  the  imagination  and  corrupt 
the  taste,  that  even  by  their  excitement  unfit 
the  mind  for  the  sober  realities  of  life,  or  that 
indispose  it  by  everlasting  laughter  for  all 
that  is  grave,  serious,  and  dignified,  are  all 
to  be  avoided.  In  some  respects,  bad  books 
are  more  mischievous  than  bad  companions, 
since  they  are  still  more  accessible,  and  more 
constantly  with  us  ;  can  be  more  secretly  con- 
sulted, and  lodge  their  poison  more  abidingly 
in  the  imagination,  the  intellect,  and  the 
heart.  A  bad  book  is  a  bad  companion  of  the 
worst  kind,  and  prepares  for  bad  companions 
of  all  other  kinds.^' 

As  this  is  a  subject  of  great  importance,  I 
need  hardly  apologize  for  adding  to  the  above 
the  pertinent  and  wise  cautions  of  Addison. 
"  Words,^'  says  he,  "  are  the  transcript  of 
those  ideas  w^hich  are  in  the  mind  of  man ; 
writing  and  printing  are  the  transcript  of 
words.  As  the  Supreme  Being  has  expressed, 
and,  as  it  were,  printed  his  ideas  in  the  crea- 
tion, men  express  their  ideas  in  books  ;  which, 
by  this  great  invention  of  latter  ages,  may 
last  as  long  as  the  sun  and  moon,  and  perish 


298  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

only  in  the  general  wreck  of  nature.  Books 
are  the  legacies  which  a  great  genius  leaves  to 
mankind,  and  which  are  delivered  down  from 
generation  to  generation,  as  presents  to  the 
posterity  of  those  who  are  yet  unborn.  Now, 
if  writings  are  thus  durable,  and  may  pass 
from  age  to  age  throughout  the  whole  course 
of  time,  how  careful  should  an  author  be  of 
committing  anything  to  print  that  may  cor- 
rupt posterity,  and  poison  the  minds  of  men 
with  vice  and  error  ?  Writers  of  great  talents, 
who  employ  their  parts  in  propagating  im- 
morality, and  seasoning  vicious  sentiment 
with  wit  and  humour,  are  to  be  looked  upon 
as  the  pests  of  society,  and  the  enemies  of 
mankind.  They  leave  books  behind  them — 
as  it  is  said  of  those  who  die  in  distempers 
which  breed  an  ill-will  towards  their  own 
species — to  scatter  infection,  and  destroy  their 
posterity.  They  act  the  counterparts  of  a 
Confucius  or  a  Socrates  ;  and  seem,  as  it  were, 
sent  into  the  world  to  deprave  human  nature, 
and  sink  it  into  the  condition  of  brutality.'' 
— Spectator, 

To  render  the  poison  palatable,  it  is  not 
unfrequently  sweetened  with  the  ornaments 
of  rhetoric  and  the  graces  of  style.  As  sajs 
Dr.  Young: — 


THE  MAN  FOii  THE  TIMES.  299 

*'  The  flowers  of  eloquence,  profusely  pour'd 
O'er  spotted  vice,  fill  half  the  letter'd  world  ; 
As  if  to  magic  numbers'  powerful  charm 
'Twas  given  to  make  a  civet  of  their  song 
Obscene,  and  sweeten  ordure  to  perfume. 
"Wit,  a  true  pagan,  deifies  the  brute. 
And  lifts  our  swine  enjoyments  from  the  mire  : 
Can  powers  of  genius  exercise  their  page, 
And  consecrate  enormities  with  song? 
Art,  cursed  art !  wipes  off  th'  indebted  blush 
From  nature's  cheek,  and  bronzes  every  shame. 
Man  smiles  in  ruin,  glories  in  his  guilt, 
And  infamy  stands  candidate  for  praise." 

Night  Thoughts. 

Your  reading  should  embrace  the  besfc 
books  and  periodicals.  I  say  the  best,  for  you 
have  no  time  to  squander  upon  those  which 
are  merely  indifferent — there  is  reading  enough 
of  the  first  class  to  occupy  you,  however  dili- 
gent you  may  be,  or  however  much  time  you 
may  be  able  to  command,  for  purposes  of  read- 
ing and  study.  The  whole  of  your  reading, 
and  every  part  of  it,  should  have  a  tendency 
to  expand  your  intellect,  refine  your  taste, 
and  improve  the  tone  of  your  moral  feelings. 
Keep  these  ends  ever  in  view,  and  it  will  not 
be  difficult  to  select  your  authors.  You  want 
intellectual  and  moral  power ;  and  if  an  au- 
thor does  not  help  you  to  these,  pass  him 
by.  The  world  wants  great  men — great 
philosophers  —  great  philanthropists  —  great 
Christians.     Bring  all  your  reading  to  bear 


300  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

upon  the  qualifications  to  meet  this  want,  and 
you  will  not  labour  in  vain.  Errorists  are 
well  read ;  and  if  you  would  be  prepared 
to  counterwork  them  and  thwart  their  evil 
designs — if  you  would  escape  their  snares — 
you  must  vie  with  them  in  your  acquaintance 
with  authors.  Your  knowledge  must  be  of 
that  extended  and  thorough  kind,  which  only 
can  be  attained  by  communing  with  the  great 
and  good  minds  of  all  ages,  through  their 
immortal  writings. 

The  learned  and  pious  Doddridge,  when  a 
student,  laid  down  the  following  rule  to  gov- 
ern his  reading :  "  Never  let  me  trifle  with  a 
book  with  which  1  have  no  present  concern. 
In  applying  myself  to  any  book,  let  me 
first  recollect  what  I  am  to  learn  by  it,  and 
then  by  suitable  assistance  from  God :  thus 
let  me  endeavour  to  make  all  my  studies  sub- 
servient to  practical  religion  and  ministerial 
usefulness.''  Like  this  great  and  good  man, 
you  should  meddle  with  no  book  the  reading 
of  which  will  not  contribute  to  your  better 
preparation  for  the  post  you  are  preparing  to 
occupy  as  a  steward  of  God,  a  member  of  the 
Church,  and  a  man. 

Exclude  all  corrupt  and  unprofitable  litera- 
ture, and  you  will  find  reading  in  abundance, 
far  more  than  you  will  ever  be  able  to  go 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  »-301 

through  with,  of  another  sort.  There  are 
hooks  enough  at  hand,  on  all  important  and 
useful  topics,  to  occupy  all  the  time  you  will 
he  able  to  devote  to  reading.  I  need  not  oc- 
cupy your  attention  with  specific  directions. 
The  better  sort  of  Eeviews,  and  the  religious 
newspapers  and  magazines,  will  keep  you  ad- 
vised of  the  progress  of  the  publishing  houses, 
and  the  advent  of  new  w^orks.  Descriptive 
catalogues  will  also  be  found  of  great  service 
to  you  in  the  selection  of  books.  A  well-read, 
judicious  friend,  will  be  found  invaluable  ;  he 
will  often  guard  you  against  an  unprofitable 
outlay  of  time  in  your  reading,  and  dangerous 
contact  with  suspicious  authors. 

Again :  to  be  a  man  for  the  times,  you 
must  be  a  man  of  large  and  catholic  views 
and  feelings. 

When  nations  had  but  little  intercourse, 
and  men  were  much  at  home,  a  comparatively 
limited  scope  of  mind,  and  little  sympathy 
with  the  great  world,  were  the  natural  results 
of  inevitable  circumstances.  Now  that  the 
most  distant  portions  of  the  world  are  brought 
more  together,  the  world  seems  like  one  great 
family,  and  all  men  are  brethren.  Our  sym- 
pathies should  now  extend  to  the  brotherhood 
of  man,  and  our  efforts  to  do  good  should  over- 
step all  those  arbitrary  limits  which  intervene 


302  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

between  states  and  nations.  It  becomes  the 
men  of  this  age,  especially,  to  contemplate  the 
universal  wants  of  humanity,  and  to  aim,  not 
merely  at  benefiting  the  country  in  which 
they  live,  but  at  making  the  world  better ; 
and  they  should  direct  their  efforts  to  the  point 
which  presents  the  strongest  claims.  It  will 
not  do  for  us,  who  have  fallen  upon  such  an 
interesting  period  of  the  w^orld's  history,  to 
act  upon  the  contracted  views  of  former  cen- 
turies. When  men  can  reach  Europe,  and 
even  Asia  and  Africa,  in  nearly  as  short  a 
period  of  time  as  it  cost  their  fathers  to  take 
their  grain,  cattle,  or  lumber,  to  their  own 
home  market,  it  becomes  them  to  expand 
their  views,  and  to  enlarge  their  outlays  for 
the  good  of  others.  As  no  portion  of  the 
world  is  beyond  our  reach,  every  portion  of 
it  should  share  in  our  sympathies  and  labours. 
The  necessary  result  of  this  large -hear ted- 
ness  will  be  large  appropriations  of  time  and 
money  for  the  good  of  the  world.  The  wealth 
which  has  come  in  upon  us  like  a  flood,  must 
have  a  large  outlet,  or  it  will  prove  an  instru- 
ment of  corruption.  Large  plans  of  benevo- 
lence must  be  devised,  and  great  efforts  made 
to  carry  forward  the  improvement  of  the  race. 
Instead  of  pennies,  we  are  now  able  to  give 
pounds;  and  our  obligations,  and  the  demands 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  803 

of  the  world,  are  in  exact  proportion  to  our 
means.  From  our  stand-point  we  can  see  the 
*'  regions  beyond,"  and  we  should  both  feel 
for  them,  and  labour  to  confer  upon  them 
permanent  blessings. 

Sectional  feelings,  or  narrow-minded  secta- 
rianism, are  wholly  inconsistent  with  these 
times.  The  commingling  of  nations,  classes, 
and  sects,  seems  designed  by  God  to  wear  away 
the  angles  which  have  heretofore  come  into 
such  terrible  and  distressing  collision.  A 
truly  catholic  Christianity  is  now  eminently 
demanded,  as  well  as  suggested,  by  the  state 
of  the  world.  False  catholicity,  alias  exclusive- 
ness,  should  now  go  out  of  sight,  and  Chris- 
tians should  feel  themselves  called  upon  to 
labour  in  harmony  for  the  good  of  the  world. 
These  are  no  times  for  selfishness  and  narrow- 
mindedness.  Large  and  liberal  Christian 
views  and  feelings  are  the  great  want  of  the 
Church.  Cultivate  this  catholic  spirit,  my 
young  friends,  as  now  eminently  necessary 
and  honourable  to  your  heads  and  hearts. 

Such,  young  gentlemen,  is  the  man  for  the 
times.  When  you  shall  have  fully  taken  in 
the  idea,  have  seen  the  circumstances  which 
create  the  need  in  their  true  light,  you  will 
see  just  what  you  ought  to  aspire  to  become. 
When  you  see  this,  you  then  ought  to  feel  the 


304  MANLY  CHARACTER. 

obligation  to  put  forth  the  required  effort  for 
the  attainments  demanded ;  and  then  you 
should  begin  to  put  forth  your  utmost  exer- 
tions to  reach  the  goal.  Now  bring  your 
heads  and  hearts  to  the  work.  Eesolve,  by 
the  help  of  God,  to  fill  the  niche  for  which 
Providence  designed  you.  Live  in  your  own 
age ;  be  a  man  for  the  times  ;  keep  up  with 
the  tremendous  ouAvard  movement  of  the 
world ;  and  may  God  give  you  good  success 
in  the  great  work  to  which  you  are  called, 
and  for  which  you  will  labour  with  all  your 
powers  to  become  eminently  fitted. 


THE  END. 


fxS^  Of  THl 

[TJKIVBRSITTI 


^m%^ 


DAY    AND    rn    J.J°J:^^1^  °N  THE  FOURTH 


z 

u 
g 

J  o 

ii 

So 

JCN 


GO 


CO 

>o 

CM 

^ 

LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

^ 

li 


I 


^  _2  -2 
"  o  o 


a*. 


O 


'mTt^ 


Ca3aS53t74 


^;^ 


»• 


NiK^ 


wnr" 


Aflf 


«• 


%^^ 


>;mj 


^^•'^ 


